


The Embers

by hickandhousewife



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hickandhousewife/pseuds/hickandhousewife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte and her team of women have survived in the apocalyptic wild far longer than anyone would have predicted. Now, as the impending winter forces their migration, they come face to face with another group, led by the enigmatic Rick Grimes. Reunions are had, new friendships are forged, and there is a hint of romance on the breeze. Together, they face challenges from the undead and the living as they struggle to find peace in the shreds of their former world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Path

The fresh blood on the leaves gave away the path of the rabbit as it limped away from its human assailant. Every few steps, the autumn carpet crackled under a pair of worn boots as the hunter stopped to find the trail again. The barrel of her twenty-gauge shotgun grazed a couple of leaves that still clung to a thin branch, resisting the impending winter. She narrowed her brown eyes, staring through the foliage, looking for any sign of movement. A rabbit could hide in the fall colors, but if she could just find the blood, just see it take that last little risk…

To her left, a pile of leaves and twigs rustled, betraying the creature struggling to escape. A shot rang out in the forest, and the hunter brushed her long brown hair out of her eyes, looking around automatically to make sure none of the dead had been alerted to her presence. When she was satisfied with the returning stillness, she walked quickly over to the pile, retrieving her kill and tucking it into her bag.

“Any luck, Xena?”

She turned, spotting her companion up on a bluff, watching over the scene with an arrow already tucked into her bow. She nodded her head with a grin. It was a stupid nickname, but she found the girl power vibe of their group charming.

Charlotte knew that Krista wasn’t the only one hiding in the trees. There were three other women looking out for her, holding handguns and knives and various power tools collected from towns they’d passed through. Four more girls were back in their camp a few miles away, getting a fire started to cook the rabbit and hanging laundry they’d washed in the creek on a makeshift clothesline.

Charlotte led the others back to camp, where she handed off the rabbit to someone with more culinary talent than she had and went back to her tent to reload her gun. There was a piece of paper on her cot, where someone had gone through the camp’s supplies and documented what was starting to run low. She moved it without looking, sat down, and began looking through her bag for the Ziploc container with her bullets. Her fingers traced the corners of a miniature legal pad. It was a tie between this and her gun as to which possession was most precious. On the pad, she wrote down everything she wanted to tell her brothers, her only family, who’d been back home when the shit hit and she was in medical school. She didn’t know if they were alive, but she refused to give up hope.

“You okay?” Krista said, opening the tent flap and heading to her cot on the opposite side. The camp was set up on the buddy system, so that people could more easily defend one another if a shuffler tried to enter their tents at night. Two girls to a tent, and nobody went anywhere alone. Their newest member, a teenage girl who’d been separated from her family and boyfriend, would be crashing on a sleeping bag in Charlotte and Krista’s tent until they found a more permanent solution. Hopefully, they could send a group to check out the closest town in a couple of days and build up some of their dwindling supplies.

Charlotte nodded at Krista and glanced at the desk calendar lying on the wobbly Ikea bedside table next to her cot. They found all kinds of strange things when they went through abandoned homes. According to the X marks in black Sharpie, it had been six months since Z-Day, and they’d had this camp for about two weeks, the longest yet. It was way off the main road, but they kept on guard. There was no telling whether shufflers or humans would be the biggest threat.

“I’m good. Just tired. Didn’t think that bunny would get so far with its wound.”

“Haha, that’s true. I kept trying to catch it long enough to put an arrow through it, but the little bastard kept moving. You’re a better tracker than me, anyway.”

“Well, we’ll have a good supper tonight.”

“The group is getting bigger, though. Pretty soon one rabbit won’t be enough, and we’ll have to figure out where to put everyone.” Krista was the most level-headed one in their little brigade, and she also happened to be Charlotte’s best friend, even from before. The two of them kind of led together, given that they had separate skill sets and Charlotte hadn’t exactly planned on being in charge.

“Let’s look at the map,” Charlotte suggested. Krista pulled it from her bag—this was another strategy, to split up the group’s essential items in case they got robbed—and spread it out on the floor between their cots. Charlotte’s eyes traced over her beloved homeland of Georgia. They were moving north from Atlanta, sticking to the highways for about a month and then following other roads and stopping in towns whenever possible. Their current location was just outside Blairsville, and they would soon have to decide whether to head north into the Carolinas or northwest to Tennessee.

“What do you think?” Krista asked.

“Maybe send three girls out at a time, one group a day. Look in all directions for somewhere we could settle. Winter’s coming, and I have no idea how we’re gonna get by if we’re still living like this when that happens.”

“It might not be that bad, if we go south.”

“Remember that snowstorm from our first year of school? You never know.”

The snowstorm was a happy memory, as it marked the day that Charlotte and Krista first became friends. They were both new at Emory University, Charlotte as a medical student and Krista in her training as a registered nurse. They were studying for finals in the campus library when a giant snowstorm came blowing through. The snow fell so fast and hard that they, along with a handful of other poor souls, were stranded in the library all night. The girls made the most of it, raiding vending machines for sustenance and trading old family stories. From that point on, at every party and lunch date, the two of them were inseparable.

A girl with dirty blonde hair in a braid poked her head through the tent. “Hey guys, Ellie says dinner is ready. Might want to grab your spots by the campfire.”

“Thanks, Brandy,” Krista said, smiling at her.

The two of them exited the tent and took their places around the fire. The de facto cook of the group, Ellie, had been working beneath her talent as a hostess in a Japanese steakhouse near campus when the world ended. She had let Charlotte and Krista wait out the initial stampede in the kitchen, and for that, she would always be a dear friend. Fortunately, her skills did not end with her native cuisine. She passed around paper plates lifted from an abandoned CVS, each of which had a tiny sliver of roasted rabbit meat on it. Charlotte wished she had wine to pair with it.

As they ate quietly, everyone tired from another day in the apocalypse, Charlotte surveyed the motley crew. Aside from herself, Krista, and Ellie, there were six other girls sitting around the fire. Brandy, along with Nora and Alyssa, were former sorority sisters who had a knack for organizing, so they were responsible for delegating tasks to everyone and keeping track of the camp’s supplies. Raven, a Native American graduate student who had been a teaching assistant in the Department of Environmental Sciences, had spent her childhood years camping with her relatives on the reservation back in Mississippi and took care of setting up camp and teaching crucial survival skills to new members of the group. Next to her sat Logan, a former personal trainer at the school’s gym who had taught the group a variety of self-defense and martial arts skills. She was in charge of finding and keeping track of new weapons during their travels. Nadia, the new girl, was still trying to find her role in the group. Charlotte had noticed her talent for singing and telling stories, though, and she was hoping to find some books or a banjo for the girl to carry with her at one of their stops in the future. It would be nice to have someone to take the group’s mind off of reality at times.

They were a good group, thrown together by the worst of circumstances but clearly making the best of it all. They’d worked together well for six months, long enough to convince Charlotte that they could survive, as long as they didn’t get too complacent. Still, the threat of cold weather was not one to be ignored.

After dinner, the sorority girls walked down to the creek to pick out some berries for their dessert, guided by Raven, and Charlotte retired to the tent. Krista was already there, poring over her small library of pages ripped from textbooks. Every time they stopped in a college town, Krista insisted on making a trip to the university library and bookstore. She knew full textbooks were too heavy to carry around, so she just ripped out the chapters she needed and stashed them in her bag. Krista was only a nurse, but she was determined to figure out how the shufflers became infected and how to stop the spread of the disease. She was more knowledgeable about chemistry, biology, and neurology than Charlotte would ever be, now that her medical school dream had come to an abrupt end.

“Any new ideas?” Charlotte asked, settling down in her cot.

“Not really,” Krista shrugged. “I haven’t gotten any new material for a while, and it’s hard to think about saving the world when you’re hungry.”

Charlotte couldn’t disagree with that. They ate whenever they could, but these days their bodies gobbled up the calories and too quickly begged for more. She ignored the uncomfortable feeling of her stomach digesting the rich rabbit meat and pulled out her journal and a pen that was running low on ink.

\--

_182 days P.Z.A._

_Remember when Daddy used to laugh at me, walking around with my BB gun? He always said I’d never catch anything more than a mouse. Well, turns out bigger is easier, at least until you get to carnivores. I got a rabbit tonight, and I’ve caught a handful of squirrels. If you are alive, then you must know the feeling._

_I miss you. I won’t give up trying to find you, even if you’ve stopped looking for me. Try to get along. You need each other. We all have to stick together now._

_Love, Charlotte Grace_

\--

She flipped through the pages lazily, looking at all of her little thoughts and asides. If she ever really ran into her brothers again, could she actually give this to them? They’d probably think she was crazy.

Suddenly, a scream echoed in the clearing outside, followed by the sound of sobbing. Krista dropped the page she was holding and rushed out, followed quickly by Charlotte. They’d had too many quiet days. They should have known.

Brandy and Raven were carrying Alyssa between them, one of her arms over each of their shoulders. She appeared to be unconscious, her thick ringlets of red hair spilling into her face and her feet catching on the rocks half-buried in the dirt. Behind them, her older sister Nora was wailing, screaming for Krista and Charlotte to come save her.

Charlotte caught Krista by the arm. “Go get an Ativan out of my bag. We only have a couple left, but if she keeps that up, we’ll be overrun with shufflers.”

Brandy and Raven laid Alyssa down in the middle of the camp. Charlotte could clearly see a bite in her shoulder, covered with blood and rot from the shuffler who’d grabbed her. “What happened?” she demanded, taking a cloth handed to her by Ellie and pressing it hard onto the wound.

“She must have seen something over in the bushes,” Brandy said, her lip trembling. “She was gone before we realized—she had to know it was dangerous, being apart from the group after nightfall.”

Raven nodded. “We killed the shuffler, but there’s gotta be more out there.”

Charlotte cursed under her breath. There was nothing to be done, and she knew it. Even if they were able to clean the wound and stitch it closed, as had been done for minor cuts in the past, the shufflers’ mouths were full of germs. She’d be septic within a week, and likely begging for them to put her out of her misery.

She stood up, going into the tent and walking past Krista as she tried to soothe Nora. Charlotte took her shotgun out of her bag and exited the tent swiftly.

“No!” Nora cried, pushing Krista away and following Charlotte. She grabbed the muzzle of the gun. “Please, Charlotte, you can’t! She’s my sister!”

“If you love her, please let me do this,” Charlotte said evenly, looking at Nora. “Please let me so you don’t have to.”

Nora could protest, but the look in her eyes gave away her understanding. She fell back against the tent, knocking down one of the poles. Krista cried out, pulling a lit candle out of the way just in time. Charlotte cocked the gun.

“Hold up,” Brandy said. She looked at Nora. “Do you want to say anything?”

Nora continued to sob wordlessly.

“Do you?” Brandy repeated desperately.

“Leave her alone,” Charlotte said, putting the end of the barrel over Alyssa’s forehead. One thing they’d learned without Krista’s help: the brain was critical. You couldn’t just shoot someone in the heart. It had to be the brain.

Ellie looked down sadly at the young girl. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” she whispered. In the space of a single shot, it was over.

By the time Raven and Logan had managed to dig a shallow grave, Nora had cried herself to sleep. A few others had volunteered to take out any stragglers hanging around in the woods, in the hope that maybe the rest of them could sleep, too. As Charlotte helped lower Alyssa’s body into the ground, she knew deep in her heart that she wouldn’t be sleeping. She stared up at the sky. Rain would be moving in soon, with the promise of winter on its heels. She was out of time.

“What now?” Krista asked, coming up beside her friend.

“We don’t have time to scout around,” Charlotte sighed. “We need supplies. I don’t think we have the luxury of moving around in the backwoods anymore. We need to get closer to the cities, see what we can still scavenge for ourselves.” She closed her eyes, thinking of the map waiting for her in their tent.

“Tomorrow, we push north.”

 

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Hi everyone! I’m excited to join you all here at AO3!

I intend for this to be the start to a pretty long story that will join up with the canon show and feature interactions between my characters and those in the main series. The next chapter will show us where Rick and his group are and what Charlotte and her group of ladies will be heading into when they finally meet up. I’ve been building this in my head canon for a while and I’m excited to share it!

Hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and please leave a review! Thanks!


	2. A New Start

_“Lori?”_

_Rick called through the empty farmhouse, the heels of his boots echoing strangely off the floor. The sound was amplified. Normally, there would be people napping in the living room, women working in the kitchen, someone sitting out on the porch having a conversation with someone else. The rooms were silent. He couldn’t even hear birds outside, or the summer cicadas, just his own voice.  
_

_“Lori!” he called again, slowly ascending the stairs. He wanted to keep an eye on her. She was heavily pregnant and growing more distant from him each day. He felt an overwhelming need to tell her that he loved her. She had to know that. But she wasn’t upstairs. No one was. He was totally alone in the house._

_He came down the stairs again, and turned into the hallway. There, standing in the sunlit frame of the open door, was Shane—bloody, beaten, and fully turned._

_Rick reached for his gun as his former best friend advanced on him. The walker painted the walls with dried blood as it dragged its jagged fingernails along them, its mouth coated in the same dark red hue. It stumbled along on the wood floor, a low growl emanating continuously from its throat. Its colorless eyes were fixed on Rick, who pulled the gun out of the holster and fired two shots into its forehead._

_The walked crumpled to the ground, and the silence was restored. He put his hand to his face, startled as he felt tears begin to pour from his eyes. He looked at his fingers as they came away from his face. They were covered in blood._

Rick twisted awake in the thin sheets, bumping into Lori lightly with his elbow as she lay curled up next to him. He looked over at her. She was just as pregnant as he’d remembered her in his dream. Hershel had been counting the days; she had about two months left before she was due. A naturally thin woman, she already looked like she was carrying a beach ball under her shirt. But Rick remembered how she was with Carl—happy, full, glowing. She didn’t look that way at all now.

He stood up, carefully placing both feet on the floor and reaching for his boots. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to waking up in a prison cell, but he’d gotten used to a lot of things so far. This morning felt oddly calm after the events of the past few days. Hershel was still recovering from the loss of his leg, the remaining prisoners were attempting to assimilate into the main group, and the walkers had been walled off by a set of fences, giving the prison and its grounds a wide berth. The moment he walked out of the cell he was sharing with Lori, he knew that someone would come up with some crisis he needed to address. That was the hand he’d been dealt. But the sunlight was weak. It might still be early. Maybe he would have a few minutes to himself before some new distraction came along.

Rick walked downstairs, quietly greeting the few others who were awake. Glenn and Maggie were at a table in the corner, reloading the guns that had been used to reduce a particularly large herd of walkers over by the fence yesterday. As he got closer, he could see them playing a little game under the table; every so often, one of them would poke the other in the side, and the victim would chastise the assailant briefly before returning to the task at hand. He smiled, remembering when he and Lori used to play those little games at the lunch table in high school. That seemed like an entire lifetime away, somebody else’s life.

He passed T-Dog, working with a couple of the prisoners to sort out what little food and medicine had been found in the cleared blocks, and headed out to Tower 1, where he found Daryl taking an early watch, crossbow in hand.

“Morning,” he said quietly.

Daryl glanced back at him. “You sleep?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good. You needed it.” Daryl looked back out at the prison grounds.

“What are you doin’ up so early?” 

“Jus’ felt like somebody should be keepin’ an eye on things. That herd yesterday nearly took us down. We’re gonna have to do somethin’ to bolster the east fence.”

“You got any ideas?”

“I’ll let you know when I do.”

“All right.” Rick looked out over the grounds. If they could get the fence fixed up, this could be a good place to live. They had lots of space and good soil for planting. There was a little town down the road, and they might have a feed and seed store. Maybe they could find some horses still left at one of the houses around here, ones that they could put to work hauling trailers and getting people around. Winter would be coming soon, but they had this place now, and four walls and a roof were enough to keep them warm as long as they had each other. 

Carol and Carl were both down in the main part of the yard, practicing shooting at empty Campbell’s soup cans and old aspirin bottles. Carol was getting to be a pretty good shot, although Carl needed to work more on lining up his aim before pulling the trigger. Rick glanced over at Daryl to find that he wasn’t looking out at the grounds anymore. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Carol, and the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

Rick placed his hand gently on Daryl’s arm, startling the other man briefly. “Listen, before all this, I didn’t know what my life would be like without Shane. But you really stepped up, back there at the farm and now, helpin’ us out with the prison. You’ve done a lot of things. I just want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Not by me, not by anyone. You’ve earned your place here.” Rick met his eyes. “You really have, Daryl.”

Daryl looked away, but he nodded in thanks. “I was just doin’ what needed to be done.”

Rick patted his arm once more for good measure and then turned and went back inside.

\-- 

“Will you cut that out?” Maggie said, trying not to squeal when Glenn got her right between the ribs. “We’re gonna be loading ammunition all day at this rate.”

“Well, I left my PlayStation back in Atlanta, so I’m afraid this is all the entertainment I have,” Glenn said, smirking at her as he pushed another round of bullets into a handgun. “I guess you wouldn’t understand that, though, since back on the farm all you ever had was cow-tipping…”

Now it was Maggie’s turn to aim for the ribs, causing him to double over in surprise. “You know I’ve been to college, don’t you, jackass?”

“Don’t let Daddy hear you say things like that.” Beth took a seat across from them, bringing their lovers’ quarrel to an unceremonious halt.

“You sleep all right, Bethy?” Maggie asked.

“I guess,” Beth answered. “Mattresses are kinda hard here, and it gets cold at night.” The truth was, she’d spent half the night crying, unable to erase the mental image of her aunt Patricia being yanked from her grasp by walkers. As much as she liked Glenn and felt that he was a good match for Maggie, she missed the nights when her older sister would come home from college and throw an impromptu sleepover in Beth’s room. The cell felt awfully lonely, and Beth had never been good at coping with loneliness.

“We’ll get used to it,” Maggie replied. “Don’t worry.”

“Have you checked in on Daddy?” 

“No, we’ve been busy with this all morning.”

“I’ll go do it,” Beth said, getting up from the table. “He might want some water.” She walked away without making eye contact with Glenn, moving quickly up the stairs.

Maggie sighed, looking down at the bullets on the table. “Somethin’s wrong with her.”

“We’re all just trying to get by, aren’t we?” Glenn replied. “Maybe she’s just having a hard time adjusting to the move. That was your family farm. It’ll take her some time.”

“I don’t think it’s just that,” Maggie said. “I think she gets jealous… you know, I spend a lot of time with you now. It used to just be me and her when we were growin’ up.”

“I mean, it’s normal, though. Not the walkers or the fact that we’re living in a prison, obviously, but getting older, wanting to be with someone, that’s not that unusual.”

“She’s sixteen. She probably wants a boyfriend of her own, though they’re in short supply now that the world has ended. It’s weird for her to see me doin’ all this. She probably feels like I’m leavin’ her behind, just like when I first went off to college.”

“Well, Maggie, I want to be with you,” Glenn protested quietly.

“And I want to be with you. We’ll just have to find a way to help her accept that.”

Glenn looked up at the second level of cells, where Hershel was staying. Beth was standing outside his cell, leaning on the railing and watching them as they talked. “Hey, Beth,” he called gently. “We could use some help down here sorting out these arrows we found and figuring out which ones will fit into Daryl’s crossbow. You want to do it?”

Beth considered it for a moment, and Glenn tried not to smirk. He had noticed how Beth sometimes trailed after Daryl, drawn in by his bad-boy aesthetic. Daryl, on the other hand, was either too oblivious or too embarrassed to acknowledge it, and perhaps a little too interested in women closer to his age to bother paying any attention to Beth. Just as he’d predicted, Beth came trailing down the stairs, suddenly eager to assist.

\-- 

Carol squared her stance and fired at the soup can, missing it by a couple millimeters. She sighed, lowering her weapon. “I think we picked the wrong time of day to practice, Carl,” she admitted. “The sun is starting to get into my eyes.”

“We’re gonna have to fight off walkers at all times of day,” Carl reminded her. “Come on, the more we practice, the better we’ll get. I’ll go get some more stuff to shoot at.”

Carol watched him walk back into the prison. His father had given him the go-ahead to start practicing a few days ago, after Carl pointed out that his very pregnant mother would need all the protectors she and the new baby could get. Ever since then, Carl had been relentless, getting up to finish his assigned tasks for the day as early as possible so that he could spend most of his free hours practicing. He kept pointing his gun at the walkers roaming in the nearby field, as if he were antsy to go out and try his luck with them. His enthusiasm worried Carol a lot. He was growing up too fast as it was, and each day he moved further and further away from the little boy who played with Sophia.

_Sophia._ Her name still made Carol’s heart physically ache. She sniffled and pointed her gun at another soup can, this time blasting it clean off the makeshift shelf. She never really got enjoyment out of firing the gun, but at least now she knew that she could help protect someone else. If Lori had a little girl, she wouldn’t get lost, wouldn’t have to die...

Her thoughts turned to Ed, as they did occasionally in her weak moments. It was strange how quickly she’d forgotten his face, and she was starting to forget all the terrible things he’d said to her over the years in which they were married. The wounds he’d given her, though, those would never fully heal. Every time a formerly broken rib or healed bruise ached, though, she now thought about putting the barrel of the gun to his head and pulling the trigger, ending him as quickly as anyone would end a walker.

Carol felt eyes on her back and looked up. The sun’s glare was still in her eyes, but she could just barely make out Daryl’s outline and the edge of an angel’s wing on his vest. _My guardian angel,_ she thought to herself with a girlish smile. She would always treasure the connection she’d built with Daryl, especially the way in which they were able to communicate without words, how she didn’t have to tell him the story of her abuse because he already knew what it felt like, in his own way. Though her relationship with the slightly younger man had never turned physical, they still enjoyed a certain kind of intimacy, and perhaps one day they’d develop that feeling even more. Carol had often wondered what sex would be like with a man who truly loved her.

She lined up an empty aspirin bottle in her sights and nailed it, just as Carl returned.

\-- 

Lori rolled over uncomfortably onto her stomach and checked the watch on Rick’s bedside table. She had slept in too late, and now her belly was aching for breakfast. Well, _someone_ was aching for it, anyway. She sighed, gripping one of the supporting beams for the bunk bed and using it as leverage to stand up. She exited the cell and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling chilly. 

Since there was no breakfast to be had, her first order of business after using the bathroom was to check on Hershel. He lay there as peacefully as they’d left him the previous night, obviously still weak but clearly still breathing. Lori sat down on a stool next to his bed and gently peeled away his old bandages, replacing them with new ones that were being kept on a nearby table. As she worked, she hummed softly, an old lullaby her grandmother had sung to her when she was a little girl.

She still didn’t have a last name for the life growing inside of her, let alone a first. She was terrified about this birth, and her way of coping was to try to plan as far ahead as possible. She couldn’t do normal things like buy supplies or paint a nursery, but she could think about all the things she’d want to teach her baby, whether it was a girl or a boy. In this world, both men and women needed to be able to shoot, to hunt and kill food, to treat a wound, to fortify a new home. When she was a senior in high school, Lori had agonized about getting married. It was the thing to do in her small town, but some girls went to nursing school or the community college down the road. Some people even moved out to the city, living on their own, experiencing the world. She’d spent many tearful nights in her room, praying for an answer, and none ever came. Now she knew why—it didn’t matter what people _did_. What they _were,_ _now_ , that counted.

When she was finished with Hershel, Lori headed outside, passing the Greene sisters and Glenn on the way. She ran into Daryl, coming in from his watch, and was informed that Rick was out by the fence, helping to pick off walkers as they came too close.

If he heard her coming—and surely he did—he was still ignoring her. It was the same as yesterday. Every morning, Lori woke up and hoped that somehow Rick would forget what had happened with Shane. She knew better, though. The betrayal ran too deep. Like her, their marriage had been a constant for him, and Shane was a constant, too. Nothing permanent remained, not in the world they’d inherited. She was afraid to settle in too much to the prison, despite its appearance of safety. She was afraid to embrace the possibility of raising this child with Rick, of watching Carl grow up into a man. Every time she thought she had something to grasp, it slipped right between her fingers.

“Good morning,” she murmured. 

“How are you feeling?” he said, not looking at her as he continued to work.

“I think the morning sickness is finally over.”

“Good.” He finally stopped, turning around and looking at her. She stared at him, realizing that he had been crying. “Lori… I love you. You know that, right?”

Lori’s lip trembled. He hadn’t told her that since the camp outside Atlanta. She moved in closer, taking his free hand as he dropped his bloody weapon and put his arms around her. She buried her face in his sweaty, dirty shirt, smelling the familiar skin underneath. She didn’t know what had happened, but he was back. He was here. That counted. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, determined to spend the whole day here in his arms until he finally believed it.


	3. A Man's World

They had been walking for days. Charlotte kept pushing them on, determined that they might finally see the main road around the next corner, even as her legs threatened to give out from under her. If they found a town like she kept promising, this would all be worth it. They could find a place to clear out and rest a while, maybe stock up on some vending machine food or canned goods from abandoned pantries, and replenish their supply of ammo. To her credit, even Nora seemed to have accepted the inevitable and had gone from maintaining a tearful silence to talking about what it was like growing up in the 90s with some other girls at the back of their party. Charlotte had no time for idle chatter.

“You been following the map?” she asked Krista, walking a few steps behind her.

“I’ve been trying to, but it hasn’t been very helpful,” Krista replied. “I keep looking through the trees to see if I see any signs for the highway, but nothing so far.”

“I guess we just have to keep looking.”

“Nothin’ else to amuse us out here, is there?” Krista cracked a smile, and Charlotte felt a warm gratitude that of all the people she could have entered the zombie apocalypse with, it had been her best friend. Krista was vital to her.

Before she and Krista had met, her first choice probably would have been her older brothers. They were only ever out for themselves, but they were useful all the same. They had a lot of skills that were anachronous to the old world but fit just fine in this one. That was the hope she clung to, that maybe one day she would see them again, so they could make fun of her stupid P.Z.A. journal.

“Hey, look,” Krista said, pulling Charlotte out of her thoughts. She pointed toward the edge of the woods, where they could make out a flash of characteristic kelly green, the hue that had been selected ages ago to mark interstate road signs. The group pushed up the embankment and through the trees, spilling out onto a cracked road streaked with skid marks and blood. A few feet away from them, some roadkill had been picked clean.

“We’re on 515,” Raven said, pointing to a white sign on the opposite side of the road. “Can’t be far from the Carolina border.”

“I thought we were going to Tennessee,” Brandy said. “I told you, my whole family lives there. They’re probably at that shelter in the football stadium.”

“If your family knew what was good for them, they’ll be long gone,” Ellie argued.

“You don’t know that!” Brandy shot back, dropping her bag. “I have to at least try. My parents are older, and my baby sister, she’s only thirteen, she can’t—”

“She’s as well-equipped as any of us were when this thing started,” Krista said, trying to reassure her. “Besides, kids are small, they might be able to get away easier.”

_“No!”_ Brandy exclaimed, tears emerging from her eyes. “This is my only chance. Charlotte…” Her eyes fell on their de facto leader. “Please, if we go into North Carolina, I might not be able to get back. This is the closest I might ever be again.”

“She’s right,” Nora said, piping up. “We went way off course back in Macon, even though that place was crawling with these freaks, just to try to find Logan’s husband. It’s not fair for us to pick and choose who we help.”

“My husband was ex-military. He would have been useful. And we got guns and knives out of that run,” Logan said, resentment lacing her tone. “We didn’t go down to Mississippi looking for Raven’s family when we hit a fork in the road, and it’s not smart for us to go off course for you now, Brandy, not without good reason. I’m sorry.”

“Fine. Don’t go off course. But I’m going to Tennessee,” Brandy said, biting her lip. “Can I at least take a few supplies with me? A couple cans of food? My gun?”

“I’m coming, too. And I’m definitely bringing my gun,” Nora said.

“Fine, go on!” Ellie exclaimed, frustrated. “Good luck out there on your own.”

“Stop,” Charlotte said, sighing. “Both of you, quit it. No one’s splitting up.” She turned, looking at Brandy. “I’m sorry, I really am. But our plan has always been to push for the coast. On the off chance that this thing is restricted to the United States, that’s where we’d be most likely to find reinforcements. The military might be there, closer to DC. If we make for Tennessee, we’re just pushing further west, deeper into the country.” 

Brandy nodded, sniffling. “I just really miss them.”

Charlotte let her gun dangle on its strap over her shoulder and embraced her friend gently. “I know,” she said softly. “I miss my family, too. Maybe we’ll see them again.”

“So what now?” Raven asked.

“Looks like there’s a town a few miles from here,” Krista said, gesturing to the green sign suspended overhead. “Maybe we can find somewhere to rest for the night.” 

\-- 

The group entered the town like a ragtag band of outlaws, with their weaponry, tattered clothes, and hungry expressions. They strolled past burnt-out shops, stepping over shattered glass and moving around abandoned cars. Charlotte couldn’t count the number of towns they’d passed through that looked just like this. It was depressing.

The routine was old hat to them by now. They relied heavily on the buddy system to effectively gather what they needed and keep themselves safe, which was one of the upsides to continuing to accumulate new members. Ellie, Raven, and Logan branched off and headed for the suburban sprawl visible on a nearby hill, planning to go look through the houses there for food and other supplies. Brandy and Nora took Nadia with them as they began checking the empty vehicles for leftover gas or a set of keys. That left Charlotte and Krista, who made for the police station, looking to add to the arsenal.

“I saw a sign for a YMCA,” Krista mentioned as they began walking. “That could be a good place to hole up for the night, even if we have to clear it out first.” 

“Yeah, it would be nice to have somethin’ other than a cot,” Charlotte replied.

“You know, it’s weird,” Krista added. “When I was younger, I used to want to travel. I thought I’d see the world, even though I’ve never been out of Georgia. I just never had time for it, you know? I was always busy with school, always had plans. Then I met Jacob, and then we got engaged, and I figured we’d have kids when I got done, so I assumed I’d lost my chance. But now, here I am… getting’ out of Georgia at last.”

Charlotte looked at her sadly. “We had to give up everything to do it.”

“I wish it hadn’t been this way,” Krista replied. “I wish he could be here with me.”

“Hey, don’t give up. You never know. He could still be out there.”

“Your brothers, too,” Krista said, brightening slightly.

Charlotte nodded, reaching into her bag and pulling out a large pair of pliers as they approached the door. The cops in this town had chained it with a big padlock, probably thinking it was good to try to preserve law and order even as the world fell down around them. It was a good sign that the lock and chain remained intact until this day.

Krista held a knife up as they entered, the pale light of day giving way to the musty darkness inside the building. They listened carefully for noises other than their own footsteps, but none came. “All right,” Charlotte whispered. “Check behind the desk. That’s where they’ll be keeping the key to the gun locker.”

Krista went behind the desk, weapon first, and fished around in some old papers under the counter. A moment later, she emerged, holding a large black carabiner key ring with several keys on it. “Gotta be one of these, I guess. I don’t see any other keys here.”

“All right, let’s give it a try,” Charlotte said. She lowered her gun and put the pliers back in her bag, pulling out a flashlight instead. She clicked it on, shining the weakening beam around inside the station. There were several old flyers for community events pinned to a bulletin board, along with a copy of the FBI’s ten most wanted list and a poster explaining how the Amber Alert system worked. In the back, an open door led into an office that, judging by the sign on the door, was used as an interrogation space, as well as one for collecting witness statements. There was another door in the corner. Charlotte put her ear to the door, hearing the quiet grumbling of shufflers in the distance, though not close enough to be a threat. Still, she lifted her weapon. “Come on.”

They opened the door slowly and shone the light into the dark space, revealing stairs. The two women took them one at a time, keeping their weapons ready, letting the flashlight’s beam illuminate a few steps ahead of them as they went. Charlotte could still hear shufflers, but they sounded muted, almost… _tired._ “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

“Yeah. Where do you think they are?”

“Maybe outside. We’ll have to be careful when we go back.”

“Charlotte, look!”

They had reached the bottom of the stairs. There were no gun cabinets to be found down here, only cells for prisoners. Two of them toward the end of the thin hallway were inhabited by shufflers, who moaned weakly and reached out through the bars. Charlotte and Krista could see that they were the source of the noise, though their groaning lacked the strength of that which emanated from shufflers outside with access to food. They approached carefully.

“This is just sad,” Krista said, sighing as she watched the undead struggle against their cages. “We should end this for them.”

“Waste of bullets.”

“I’ll stab them.”

“No, it’s not good to get that close unless you have to. You never know what could happen.” Charlotte moved back toward the stairs. “Maybe we missed something upstairs. There’s got to be an armory somewhere in here.”

They made their way back up the narrow staircase, flinching at each creak of the wood beneath their feet, and went back into the main area of the station. “I don’t understand,” Charlotte murmured. “This place is tiny. Where could they be hiding the guns?”

“Maybe in there?” Krista gestured to the interrogation room.

“I guess there could be another door we missed.”

They headed into the room, stepping around the standard metal table and chairs, and looked around. Nothing. Charlotte sighed. Suddenly, though, she looked out through the door they’d come in and spotted another room right by the entrance to the building. It was shrouded in darkness, but she could make out the words _AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY_ on a sign. “Bingo.” She moved toward the door quickly.

A pair of shufflers surprised her, and she cried out, unsure why she’d put her gun down for even a moment. Krista rushed to her aid, but someone else was there, taking the creatures’ heads off with a clean swipe. Charlotte and Krista toppled to the floor.

“Were you bitten?” A voice said coldly, standing over them.

“Who are you?”

“I said, were you _bitten_?”

“No,” Charlotte said, as Krista helped her to her feet. The woman in front of her was wearing a long cloak and carrying what looked like a samurai sword. With a start, she saw another woman leaning against the door to the station and breathing heavily, holding leashes attached to two armless, jawless shufflers. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Michonne,” the woman said, moving her long dreadlocks off her shoulder and gesturing to the other woman. “This is Andrea.”

_And your pets?_ Charlotte wanted to ask, but she said nothing.

“Is she sick?” 

“No, just tired,” Michonne replied. “Where are you coming from?”

“All over, kind of. We were camping near Blairsville, but we got overrun. We’re on our way to North Carolina,” Krista explained.

“Just the two of you?”

“No, we have a group of women. They’re not far from here.”

“All women?” The blonde by the door piped up.

“Yeah, just a little apocalyptic girl power,” Krista replied, smirking proudly.

“I’m Charlotte,” Charlotte said, extending a hand to Michonne. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m Krista,” Krista added. “Come on, we’ll introduce you to the rest of our group.”

\--

They all rested at the YMCA that night, and they were grateful to have Michonne and her sword to help them clear it out beforehand. The next morning, with canned food and bullets distributed evenly among them, they got back on the highway and headed north. 

Charlotte hung back a little, curious to know more about the new pair of women.

“So, did you guys have a group before?”

“I did,” Andrea said. “There were a bunch of us, led by a couple of sheriff’s deputies. We were holed up at this farm. It was wonderful, but… the walkers got to it, like everything else. We were forced to split up, and that’s when I ran into Michonne in the woods.” 

“Walkers?” Charlotte smirked. “We call them shufflers.”

“I can see that,” Andrea nodded.

“What about you?” Charlotte asked Michonne.

“It’s just me,” she said softly. She followed Charlotte’s eyes to the shufflers behind her. “These are my protection. As long as I have them close by, the others don’t bother me.”

“Smart,” Charlotte observed, nodding. “Don’t think I’d have the stomach. They stink.”

“We aren’t much better,” Andrea replied, and she and Charlotte laughed softly.

“You guys build up this group on the road?” Michonne asked.

“Yeah,” Charlotte said. “I mean, Krista and I knew each other from before, but the others we just kind of accumulated as we went, mostly others trying to get out of the city.” 

“You guys must be pretty tough, making it from Atlanta all on your own.”

“Nature finds a way,” Charlotte replied, sighing. She had always kind of been a loner, but she felt a sense of camaraderie with these women, who had endured everything by her side. She was proud of what they had all become, how they had survived this trial.

“Were there ever any men?” Andrea asked.

“Nope. Not on purpose or anything, just… we never met any on the trip.”

“I had some in my group,” Andrea said. “A lot actually. This pizza delivery boy who seduced the farmer’s daughter, and the deputies, and some others. A couple of rednecks… well, one. I don’t know how you’re getting by without them. They did a lot of heavy lifting while I was there. Plus, well… men are good for… for other things.”

“Like I said, we found a way.” Charlotte tried not to roll her eyes. _Who has time for sex?_

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Andrea said.

“It’s okay,” Charlotte shrugged. “You miss your boyfriend. I get it. I have family I miss, too.”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Andrea laughed. “We just fooled around a little. But I liked him. He trusted me, took me out to practice shooting, so I could be useful if things went to hell again. He treated me like I wasn’t a fragile flower. Which I’m not.” She coughed. “At least when I don’t feel like death warmed over.”

“Sounds like a good guy,” Charlotte observed. She wished she’d had men like that in her life. Her brothers had largely ignored her growing up, and the guy she’d been on and off with at the start of the Z.A. wasn’t exactly Prince Charming.

“Who did you lose?” Andrea said softly, as if she could read Charlotte’s mind. 

Suddenly, Michonne felt herself being pulled backward as her two bodyguards toppled over, headless. A group of men surrounded the group, pressing in from the trees. “Drop your weapons, ladies. No need for anyone to get hurt,” a voice said from above them.

Charlotte cursed under her breath. They had been lucky not to run into marauding gangs so far, thanks in large part to her preference to stay off the main roads. _Should’ve gone to Tennessee,_ she thought, glancing over at Brandy. _I’m so sorry._

The men went through the group, taking their weapons, and when it was her turn, Charlotte calmly handed her twenty-gauge out to their attackers, wanting to get this over with so that they could deal with whatever this group wanted and be on their way. There was no way to fight them now, but maybe they could ambush them later tonight.

The wheels were turning frantically in her head, and she didn’t hear the man from above as he approached until he spoke. “Hold on.” He paused in front of her. “Charlotte?”

Charlotte slowly raised her eyes and came face-to-face with her oldest brother. “Merle?”


	4. Welcome to Woodbury

_The night Charlotte turned her back on her family had been a muggy August evening, the last one at home before she was to drive to school the next morning. Merle was home on leave from the army and, as usual, his mere presence was enough to set her father off. The old man was half-drunk, stomping around the house and screaming at Merle about how he wasn’t providing enough to support his place in their twisted little family. Knowing her father’s patterns and having kept up with Merle’s leave schedule, Charlotte had anticipated this, though she hoped desperately for a quiet final evening. Instead, she found herself sneaking around them as they fought, placing her few bags out on the wooden porch and checking with a friend to make sure she still had a ride._

_As much as she wanted to high tail it to the end of the driveway, Charlotte knew that her brothers would get it worse in the morning if she left the house a mess. She was in the kitchen, clearing moldy pizza out of the fridge and washing mismatched dishes in the sink, when she heard a beer bottle shatter somewhere over by the staircase. She turned, startled, and saw Daryl sneak in, sitting down awkwardly at the table._

_“When did you get here?” she whispered._

_“Jus’ now,” he replied, taking a puff off of the still-lit joint pinched between his fingers._

_Charlotte sighed. She had more in common with Daryl than Merle, given that their older brother seemed to seek out conflict while they scurried around like frightened church mice. Still, Daryl’s devil-may-care attitude about the situation annoyed her. She knew he was smart, although he hid it to fit it with Merle and his friends, and she worried that he was going to squander himself out here in the lonely backwoods of Georgia. But there was nothing she could do about that. It would be an insult to his pride to listen to advice from his baby sister. Instead, she did what she always had done—fulfilled the role of the person all three of them had been grieving, in their own ways, for the last thirteen years. “You want me to heat up some leftovers for you before I go?” she asked softly._

_“Go where?”_

_“I’m leaving for Athens tonight. School starts next week, and I gotta get moved in.”_

_“Oh,” he said quietly, like he’d forgotten._

_She retrieved the leftover macaroni-and-cheese, her mother’s old recipe, out of the microwave just before it beeped and placed in front of Daryl, handing him a fork. “Make sure you wash it up when you’re done. Don’t want to give Daddy anything else to complain about.”_

_Daryl sighed, hearing Merle shouting at their father in the other room. They both wished he would just take his licks and leave it be, but Merle was never one to give up a fight._

_“You gonna be okay?” she asked tentatively._

_“Yeah,” he said, looking down at the plate and picking at the food with the fork. “You take care of yourself out there, fancy-ass college girl. We won’t be there to help out.”_

_Charlotte smiled, though she felt like crying. She hung up the wet dish towel she’d been using and lightly squeezed Daryl’s hand. “Promise me you and Merle will look after each other, okay? Maybe you can come and visit me in the city sometime.”_

_Her brother looked at her, saying nothing, and she read his expression. Daryl was never one to promise anything. Their world was too tumultuous. Most promises ended up broken, and by not making one to her now, he was showing her that he respected her._

_She sniffled, squeezing his hand one more time, and moved quickly out the front door._

“What are you so thoughtful about?” Merle asked, crackling some leaves under his boots and bringing Charlotte out of her memories.

“Nothin’,” she said. “I just can’t believe we found each other.”

“You know, when the shit hit, me and Daryl went to Atlanta,” Merle said. “They said sumthin’ on the radio about some refugee camps set up down there. We went lookin’ for you, but the school was overrun by the time we got there. We figured you was dead.”

“Krista and I headed out pretty fast. Collected the rest along the way.”

“Girl, I gotta hand it to you, you got them bootstraps pulled up real tight.” Merle laughed. “I can’t believe a bunch of girls have made it out here on their own for six months.”

Charlotte chose to ignore this comment; the Z.A. had only made her brother a purer version of what he already was, which was a racist and misogynist, among other things. It didn’t mean that he didn’t care for her; it only meant that he cared too much about his own ego to acknowledge other people’s feelings. “So how far is this camp you have?”

“It’s not a camp. It’s a town. Woodbury. We’ve got a nice setup there, houses and food and showers and all. Even a library. It’s walled up and guarded. You’ll like it there.”

The idea of a place like that did sound nice, although Charlotte had learned during her time on the road not to trust anything that looked too good to be true. “And are you the mayor of Woodbury?” she joked. “The guys you brought with you seem to listen to you.”

“I help run the place,” Merle replied, cracking a yellow-toothed smile at her. “We’ve got this fellow, the Governor, he’s really the one in charge of the joint. I’ll introduce you.”

The group turned a corner and confronted a large wall, barricaded by stripped vehicles and lined with loops of barbed wire. Men and women standing atop the wall immediately pointed their guns at the group, though they relaxed somewhat when Merle waved them away. Charlotte tried not to stare at his unusual prosthetic as it glinted in the sunlight.

“Where’s the governor?” he called up to a muscular man holding an AK-47.

“In his office,” the man replied. “Who are they?”

Merle put his arm around Charlotte. “Hands off this one, Martinez, she’s blood. But the rest, well, take your pick of the litter.” He laughed, the rasping sound echoing from deep down in his throat, and guided Charlotte through the gates as they opened.

Charlotte’s first thought was that she had trespassed onto the set of a movie. Compared to the wasteland outside the walls, this place was paradise. Whoever was running the makeshift homeowner’s association had taken care to ensure every blade of grass was neatly manicured, every storefront was exactly up to code, and the decorative fountain in the middle of the town square spewed only Grade A water drawn from Mount Fiji. A child born in this town would never know that the world had ended outside, except for the heavily fortified entrance and unusual abundance of men toting weaponry. She almost felt like laughing, between the weirdness of it all and her gratitude at finally being somewhere that she could breathe freely, at least for a little while.

Merle left the others out on the street with some town residents, eager to offer them a meal and find them a place to stay, and took Charlotte into one of the carefully manicured homes. Inside, a nervous-looking man with glasses sat at the kitchen table, sharing a bowl of tangerines with a taller man. The latter looked to be a few years older than Merle, handsome, and he exhibited an air of confidence even while seated.

“You’re back,” the man said, speaking with a subtle drawl. “Funny thing is, I was expected you to come back with supplies, not more mouths to feed.”

“We got the supplies. The boys are stocking the pantry and armory as we speak,” Merle corrected him. “We ran into my little sister and her girlfriends out on the road.”

“Ah,” the man said, putting down the piece of fruit he had been peeling and standing up. “Well, I was going to say, you’re much too pretty to be one of Merle’s girlfriends, and almost too pretty to be related to him, but I guess I’ll have to take his word for it.” He offered her his hand, and she took it, shaking it shortly. “They call me the governor around here. I run this town, with the help of others. But you can call me Phillip.”

“I’m Charlotte,” she said, offering him a smile. “We’re happy to be here.”

“Nice to meet you. I’d like to talk with the rest of your group. We welcome new residents with open arms, but I want to learn their names, see what kind of people they are.”

“I can assure you, they’re good people. Everyone has skills of some kind, so we’ll be able to help out around here. I’m sure they’d do just about anything for a shower and a properly cooked meal at this point,” Charlotte joked.

“You were in charge of them, huh?”

“I mean… they look to me, and my friend Krista.”

“Well, no need to worry about that anymore. They’re in good hands here. I’ll take good care of them, and you, as long as everyone follows the rules and pulls their weight.”

Charlotte frowned slightly. The words that were coming out of his mouth were agreeable enough to her, but there was something… _off_ about his expression. It wasn’t like Merle, who had no problems sharing his controversial opinions with everyone around him. But the look on Phillip’s face was the kind of look someone might give a child who thought they were a lot tougher and more grown-up than they really were. It was amusement tinged with pity. Like her brother, he was genuinely surprised that a group of women had made it out there alone. Unlike Merle, he wasn’t willing to let that continue. Charlotte glanced at the nervous-looking man in the glasses, who was studying her wordlessly, and wondered if perhaps this governor treated all potential competition this way. Maybe he just thought she’d be easier to push over because she was a woman.

As her brother and his boss showed her back out to the front door, where the rest of her comrades were waiting, Charlotte wondered why she even cared what Phillip wanted. She’d always tried to shirk off any semblance of leadership before, too scared that she might make the wrong call, although it always found its way back when crises arose. Never, though, had she felt this curious need to defend her position, defend her team. As she nodded at the helpful person who was showing her to a house and pointing out where basic necessities could be obtained, she suddenly felt more confused than ever.

\--

Charlotte had spent a week in Woodbury, and she was already bored.

It had been fun to walk around and explore the first couple of days, to meet people and talk with Merle about all he had experienced since the fall of the human empire. Just as he’d said, the library was impressive, but it was uncomfortable for her to imagine sitting around and reading, much less without a weapon close by, just in case. She’d offered to lend a hand at the local clinic, figuring that finding a job would keep her busy, but Woodbury had apparently attracted a surplus of nurses, and both her and Krista had been given the cold shoulder. Plus, Woodbury was so tightly guarded that serious injuries were few and far between. It only took so many able hands to stitch up a cut.

Last night had really bothered her, though. The governor’s idea of fun was to send able combatants with something to prove—including her brother—into a makeshift arena, where they wrestled under the impending threat of chained-up shufflers. Every time the creatures’ hands got a little closer to one of the fighters, the crowd cheered, and Charlotte’s stomach turned. She cared about Merle’s safety, even if he didn’t seem to.

She was sitting on her bed after dinner, flipping through the journal she’d so carefully guarded during the months they’d spent on the road. Why hadn’t she given it to Merle? She was here now, she’d found him, and yet she didn’t want to part with the little book. Maybe she was worried that he’d make fun of her. When they were younger, she would brush it off. But she cared more about him now. What he thought about her mattered.

Charlotte looked over at Andrea, who was busy consulting the map with Krista. “What are you two looking for?” she asked.

“I thought maybe if I looked at the map, I could figure out where my old group was before,” Andrea said. “It’s hopeless, though. All farmland looks the same on a map, and who knows where they went after the farm burned. I just…” She sighed. “I know some of them must have gotten out. I’d love to bring them here, if I knew where they were.”

“Maybe we should go look for them,” Michonne suggested, standing over in the corner of the room. She seemed as uneasy as Charlotte in this place, never willing to stay in one location for long, always sneaking off to try to locate her sword, which they’d taken.

“I can’t,” Andrea said. “I’ve been feeling really sick. I’ll be able to recover here, but not out on the road. Maybe we can go searching in the spring, when it’s warmer.”

“They could starve to death by then,” Krista said.

“They’ve probably already starved to death,” Charlotte said, sighing.

“Don’t say that,” Andrea said, looking at her. “Look, I’ve been debating with myself about telling you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up. I mean, running into Merle, that was a million in one chance, and I’m so happy for you, but…” 

“What is it?” Charlotte said.

“Daryl was part of my old group. He was still with them when I lost track of them.”

“Daryl’s _alive_?” Charlotte felt her heartbeat accelerate.

“He might be. He’s tough, especially without Merle there to boss him around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Charlotte exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… we all thought Merle was dead when we lost track of him, and yet here he is. What are the odds that that kind of miracle happens more than once?”

“I have to try to find him,” Charlotte said, standing up. Her mind was racing. She had to find Merle and tell him, they had to set off immediately… her brothers were both _alive._

“I’ll go with you,” Krista said.

“No, you should stay here, look after everyone else.”

“No way. You’ve been dreaming of the day you might find your brothers again for months. I’m not gonna miss this.” Krista grinned. “We’ll set off first thing in the morning, pack supplies, weapons. We’ll find them. Maybe we’ll even find Jacob out there.”

Charlotte nodded. The thought of these reunions nearly brought her to tears.

“I’m coming too,” Michonne said. “I’ll find my sword and bring it with us.”

“Really?” Andrea said, taken aback. “You want to leave?" 

“They could use my help.”

Andrea’s expression suggested that she didn’t believe this was the real reason Michonne wanted to go. But she said nothing further, just looked back at the map.

“Who else wants to go?” Charlotte said, looking around at the others. Logan and Raven raised their hands. Brandy looked at the floor, and the other sorority sisters avoided Charlotte’s eyes. “All right, Logan and Raven are coming with us. Ellie, you’re in charge while we’re gone. We’ll take the map, and hopefully we’ll be back soon.”

“How long will you look?” Ellie asked. 

“As long as it takes,” Charlotte said. She looked down at the little book in her lap. “Like Andrea said, it was a miracle that I found Merle. I’m not giving up until I find Daryl, too.”


	5. A House Divided

Charlotte inhaled slowly and let the breath out little by little, her eyes fixed on the small target visible in the scope of the rifle she was holding. She narrowed her eyes slightly and pulled the trigger, watching with satisfaction as the soup can exploded into the air.

“Nice shot, baby sister.”

She grinned, turning around to see her brother sauntering her way. He paused and pulled on the shotgun slung over his shoulder, lining it up and shattering a beer bottle a few paces back from where she stood. “One-handed, and I still got fuckin’ good aim.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I see the end of the world hasn’t tarnished your pride.”

“Doesn’t feel too much like the end of the world in here,” Merle observed, sitting down on the grass and patting the spot next to him. Charlotte let her rifle drop and sat down. “You settlin’ in all right?”

“I like it,” Charlotte lied.

“I know it ain’t like home, but you’ll get used to it. I’m almost used to it.”

Charlotte looked down, picking absently at the grass. It was so green, it almost looked fake. “The way I remember home, I’m glad to be someplace else.”

She felt Merle sigh next to her. “Girl, I barely know you anymore. Got yourself a fancy-ass college degree, gone to doctor school, livin’ in the big city… you really made somethin’ of yourself. Too bad the world went to shit and you won’t amount to nothin’.”

“Stop. If I hear you say you’re proud of me, I’ll know you’re an impostor.”

He chuckled. “Nah, I’m jus’ sayin’… I’m glad I didn’t lose you. Especially after Daryl.”

“Daryl’s alive,” she said, dropping it into the conversation like the weather, squinting into the sun as she looked up at him. His expression lightened considerably, but he frowned.

“No way.”

“Andrea told me he was with the group back at the farm. I’m goin’ to look for him.”

“Well, shit, I’m comin’ with you.” He stood up, offering her his whole hand to help her to her feet. “Jus’ give me a minute to pack some weapons, some cans of food…”

“The girls have got it. Some of them are coming, too.”

“Me and a bunch of girls on the road?” Merle grinned. “Daryl’s gonna be jealous.” 

Charlotte was about to tell him off for thinking with his dick yet again when they turned a corner and almost ran straight into the Governor.

“Where are you two headed so early?” he asked, looking from one to the other with a curious smile.

“Andrea said my brother’s alive,” Merle explained. “We’re gonna find him and bring him back.”

“No, you’re not.”

“The hell we aren’t,” Charlotte said. She had just about had enough of this dictator and the smug way in which he looked at her, like she was a little girl playing dress-up. If only he’d seen her shoot a few minutes ago—then he might show her a little more respect.

“You’re free to go, Charlotte, if that’s what you really want… but Merle here is my lieutenant, one-armed as he is, and I need him to help keep the people here safe. Now, if you do find your other brother, you’re welcome to bring him back…”

“You can’t expect me to send my sister back out there alone after I just got her back,” Merle protested.

“I’ll bet she’s not goin’ alone. She’s probably already recruited some of her friends to come with her.” The Governor looked at Charlotte. “Haven’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Charlotte said. “But I want both of us to be there when we find him. He probably thinks we’re dead. Plus, Merle can help us find the way back.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said, dismissing her again. This made her angry, though she wasn’t sure if she was more upset about his attitude or the fact that Merle had backed down so easily. The brother she’d known had fire in his veins, and yet he was already resigned, judging by the disappointed expression on his face.

“Don’t you have a family?” she shot back, ignoring the fact that he stood several hands taller than her. “Wouldn’t you want to be there when everyone was finally reunited, after all the shit that everyone still living on this stupid planet has gone through?”

“Now you’ve gone too far,” he said, no longer smiling, no longer tolerating her. “If you want to go, fine, pack a few things and get going before you risk losing the light.”

Charlotte stared at him for a moment, not wanting to back down. At least one member of the Dixon family had to keep their balls, and it might as well be her. When she was satisfied that she’d made an impression, she took off the sniper rifle and pressed it into Merle’s hand. Then, she stalked off in the direction of the house she was staying in.

\--

_If Daryl ends up being a damn coward too, I might as well just quit tryin’._

Charlotte moved quickly but quietly through the woods, keeping a Colt revolver close, with Krista backing her up with the bow and arrow. It was hard, but she was able to keep all of her complaining in her head. At least she had a plan. She would find Daryl, bring him back to Woodbury, and the two of them would set Merle and this Governor fellow straight. It wouldn’t be a bad place to live, if he’d give up his little power trip.

They were walking along the highway, slightly off the road but close enough to follow the signs. Andrea had been able to point them in a general direction on the map, but she didn’t have much more to give than that. _We always regrouped at the highway,_ she’d said. _I’d try that first. They might be camping not too far off of the road._ So they were scouring every inch of asphalt from Woodbury to the farm country labeled on the map, stopping to listen every so often for the sounds of voices they didn’t recognize, and maybe one that Charlotte did, if only from distant memories.

“Hey, look,” Krista said, pointing to a sign. “There’s an exit in a mile for some town called Molena. Maybe they found it, too, tried to settle there. We shouldn’t just be checking the road. I mean, it’s been a little while, right? Would they really still be out here if they had found something with four walls and a roof?”

Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know… I mean, maybe… but if we stray from the highway too much, we’ll lose track of where we are. It’ll be hard to find our way back to Woodbury.”

“We don’t have to go far. Go into the town, come back, keep going,” Michonne said.

“All right,” Charlotte nodded. It would be getting dark in a few hours anyway, and it might be better to settle in a town than to be exposed out here on the road. The wind was starting to blow chillier after dusk, too.

She led the group along the exit ramp, following the cloverleaf around. They amused themselves by trying to walk a straight line down the center, an old game of don’t-step-on-the-crack converted for use on highway paint dashes. Charlotte turned the corner at the bottom and gasped as she suddenly glimpsed a woman in a dark pink shirt. 

“Hide,” she hissed softly, ducking back into the trees and watching the woman. She was carrying a plastic laundry basket full of toys. On closer examination, Charlotte could see a baby bottle or two, along with some clothes, among the stuffed animals and blankets. _She doesn’t look pregnant,_ Charlotte thought, curious. _Not unless she just found out._

“I can’t believe you found one!” the woman called out, and a man walked into Charlotte’s field of vision. He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair and a pistol tucked into his belt. He chuckled, and the sound of it filled Charlotte up with warmth. Happy moments were so few and far between in the torn up world they’d all inherited. She smiled, watching as he showed the woman a car seat, draping it over one arm. 

The echoing sound of wheels scratching on the road caught Charlotte’s attention, and she watched with baited breath as a third figure entered the scene. He was pushing a shopping cart with a few cans of food, some bottled water, and a couple of pillows. His hair was a little longer than she remembered, and his arms had bulked up a little bit, but her heart recognized him instantly, and it threatened to beat through her chest at the sight of him. It was all she could do to not spring out of the foliage and run right to him.

_I found you, Daryl._ Tears were welling up in her eyes. _I found you._

\-- 

Rick stuck his arm out the window and signaled T-Dog to open the gate as they drove up to the prison. He couldn’t wait to get behind those fences and find his wife so that he could show her all the baby supplies they’d picked up. He knew he hadn’t been the greatest husband lately, too distracted by the dangers all around them and the arduous task of settling into the prison, but surely this gesture would take a little of the stress off of her. They had stuffed animals, bottles, burping cloths, some clothes, even a car seat. Maybe next time they would find a crib or one of those harnesses that a parent could wear. He wasn’t even certain this baby was his, but the prospect of new life was too exciting in a world where he didn’t think he’d ever see another glimmer of hope. He didn’t even care if Lori had a boy or girl. All he wanted to do was hold them both close.

“Good trip?” T-Dog asked, as Glenn and Maggie approached.

“Yeah. Lots of stuff for Lori and the baby, and some extra food and supplies for the prisoners. We can help them clear out their block and get settled in, and maybe then they’ll leave us alone so we can finish turning this place into a more permanent home.”

Glenn and Maggie were helping Daryl and Carol load supplies out of the van and into a nearby cart, and they appeared to be verbally drawing straws as to who had to deliver it to the prisoners. Carl and Hershel had joined them and were helping to separate out the baby items, to wrap them up inside the car seat as a surprise gift package for Lori.

“Carl, you and I will take that in together. Your momma’s gonna love it,” Rick said.

“Rick,” Hershel cautioned, pointing over his shoulder.

The group turned, and Glenn cocked the gun he was holding. Daryl reached for his crossbow. Together, they watched as a group of women slowly approached the gates, taking out walkers that wandered a little too close for comfort as they went.

A tall black woman spread her arms in a gesture of friendship as they drew near to the gate, though one hand still gripped a katana streaked with walker guts. “We don’t want to hurt anyone,” she called. “She just wants to find her brother.” She pointed to a girl behind her, a brunette with a twenty-gauge shotgun and a tired, hungry look to her.

Suddenly, Daryl let his crossbow slip down, hanging at his side. Glenn stared at him, surprised. Daryl moved forward, looking at T-Dog. “Open the gate,” he said.

“What?”

“Open the gate!”

He moved forward, slowly at first and then more deliberately, as the others watched. At the same time, the brunette moved past the woman who’d announced their arrival, slipping past the gate and running directly into Daryl’s arms. They could hear her crying as she and Daryl melted into each other’s embrace. Her gun clattered to the ground and the crossbow danced about their ankles, forgotten. She buried her head in Daryl’s chest as he held her close, and her thin body shook slightly even as she wiped at her eyes.

None of them were quite sure what to say. The newcomers were smiling, staying respectfully close to the now-closed gate, and Carol was looking at Daryl and smiling, too. Finally, when the girl had composed herself, she and Daryl parted at last.

“This is my sister,” he explained softly. “My little sister, Charlotte.”

“And this is Daryl,” Charlotte said, gesturing to him as she faced her group.

“How did you find us?” Rick asked, stepping forward, still wearing a look of surprise.

“We saw you back in that town,” Charlotte said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We kind of followed you back here… I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t believe it when I saw him.”

“Can’t blame you,” he replied. “I’m Rick Grimes. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte said. “This is Michonne, and Krista, and Logan and Raven.” She gestured to each of the girls in turn. “You’re all living here? How big is your group?” 

“We’re sort of small, but everyone plays their part,” Rick said, smiling at her. “Daryl never told us he had a sister.”

“I haven’t seen her since she left for college. It’s been years,” Daryl said, wiping his brow as he looked at her. “You made it out of Atlanta.”

“Yeah, Krista and me,” Charlotte said, squeezing her best friend’s hand affectionately. “We were lucky. Some of our group is back at this little town, not too far from here, just up the highway. Daryl—” She grabbed his hands. “Daryl, Merle’s there. He’s alive.”

Daryl looked like he was so surprised that he wanted to sit down right there in the prison yard. He stared at Charlotte. “You serious? Why didn’t he come with you?”

“He tried to come with me. But the guy running the place wouldn’t let him. I guess Merle is important or something. He wanted to come, Daryl. I begged him to, but he couldn’t.” 

Daryl looked at Rick. “We have to go get him.” 

Behind him, the others exchanged glances. Charlotte could surmise that Merle wasn’t the most popular survivor they’d encountered.

Rick sighed. “Look, I’d never come between family,” he said. “But you two gotta keep him in line if he’s gonna stay here.”

“Plenty of cells, man,” Daryl said, nodding. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of Merle.”

“There’s another option,” Charlotte said. “The guy in charge is kind of a jerk, but the town—Woodbury—it’s nice. They have stuff running on generators, showers, toilets, heat in the winter. A library. It could be a nice place. You could come back with us.” Charlotte remembered seeing the cartload of baby supplies they had been hauling. An abandoned prison was nowhere to raise a baby. It deserved a real house in a real town.

Rick nodded, considering this. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said. “It’s been a long day for everyone. A good one, but long. Come in, and we’ll find you a place to sleep.”

Charlotte nodded, and her brother tucked her under his arm and led her into the prison. As the sun began to set and the walkers’ groans echoed from the outer yard, the two groups melded, and for a moment, they looked like they had been together all along.


	6. The New Kids

Charlotte yawned, taking a seat on the bleachers in the prison yard. In a few minutes, the other prison residents would filter into this area, as Rick had called a town hall meeting to discuss the possibility of moving to Woodbury. She put a hand on her stomach as it growled, contemplating the irony of this moment: if she hadn’t eaten a couple days before, when she was still with her oldest brother, her stomach probably would have given up altogether and stopped bothering her. But the memory was too fresh, and now she was craving delicacies of the old world—pancakes, coffee, eggs…

She felt a hand on her shoulder as her other brother entered, sitting next to her. She’d barely gotten any sleep last night, as she and Daryl had stayed up most of the night talking by the weak light of an oil lantern, catching up on all they’d missed of one another since the Z. A. began, and even before then. Still, there was much more to tell. She wanted to ask what had happened to their good-for-nothing father and, on a lighter note, what was behind the curious glances he kept exchanging with the gray-haired woman, Carol. And eventually she knew he’d ask her about her ex-boyfriend, Duke.

Their relationship had been on-and-off since she was fifteen. Merle had introduced them, which should have been the first sign that he was a poor choice. There was little to do in their small town, however, and she found herself going to high school football games, watching him throw up bad moonshine in the parking lot at McDonald’s, patiently holding his rifle bag when he went out turkey shooting in the fall. Even when she went to college, he still showed up and demanded to stay in her apartment, and she still found herself driving down to visit whenever she wanted to avoid spending holidays with her own family. He treated her like shit and he hit her sometimes when he got angry, but he was familiar. She had a million chances to shed him and just never did it.

_Well… there at the end…_

“Mornin’, pookie,” Carol said, crossing in front of them and sitting on Daryl’s other side.

He blushed, gently elbowing her. “Stop.”

“You know, you’re awfully clean to be a Dixon,” Carol added, turning her attention on Charlotte.

“Oh, you know… somebody had to be the pretty one in the family.”

Carol laughed. “Were you two close growing up?”

_Not exactly,_ Charlotte thought to herself, looking down.

Thankfully, at that moment Rick entered the prison yard, walking between the two sets of bleachers and facing the group. He nodded at Daryl and Carol and looked at Charlotte, extending his hand to her as a sign that he wanted her to join him at the front. She stood up slowly, still not quite used to being a leader, and did as he asked.

“I’d like everyone’s attention, please,” Rick began. “This is Charlotte. She’s Daryl’s sister. She and some others from her group found us last night, so if you see some unfamiliar faces as you’re goin’ about your duties today, don’t be alarmed.”

Charlotte nodded to the others in greeting.

“D’you mind telling us a little more about the place where you and Merle were stayin’?”

“Merle’s alive?” Charlotte’s eyes found the face of a pretty brunette sitting at the bottom of the set of bleachers to her left. She looked like she had swallowed a beach ball, as her heavily pregnant belly drew a stark contrast with her otherwise thin frame. The woman looked around curiously, as If she was surprised that she was the only one asking this question. But the others, who had either been present for her arrival or apparently hadn’t known Merle, did not react to her.

“Yeah,” Charlotte said, clearing her throat. “He’s missing a hand, but he’s alive.”

The woman swallowed, glancing over at Daryl. “That’s good,” she said, but her voice sounded hollow. It was obvious that she didn’t really think highly of Merle. Then again, unless he had gone through a radical change, Charlotte found that understandable.

“Um, it’s a town, maybe ten or twenty miles from here. We walked for a couple days before we found this place. The place is called Woodbury and it’s totally furnished. They’ve got a stockpile of food, hot water, and plenty of places for people to sleep.” She paused. “I don’t want to seem like I’m lookin’ down on what y’all are settin’ up here, but I think you’d be happier there.” She looked back at the pregnant woman as she spoke.

“Yesterday you said somethin’ about the guy in charge,” T-Dog said.

“Right, they, um… they call him the Governor. From what I could tell, he kinda keeps things in order. He asked Merle to stay behind, otherwise he’d be here with me now.” Charlotte crossed her arms, growing increasingly uncomfortable with addressing a crowd. “I’m sure he’d be happy to welcome you as part of the community.” 

“We just got here,” Glenn spoke up. “We just started really making this place a home. We wouldn’t want to leave all of the supplies here behind, and I don’t really see us hauling them twenty miles, even with the couple of cars we found the other day.”

Next to him, Maggie nodded. “And Daddy’s still healin’. It would be dangerous.” Charlotte’s eyes fell from her face to Hershel’s stump before she guiltily tore them away.

“Look, I just want to have my family together in one place,” she said, sighing. “I imagine that Merle will want to stay in Woodbury. And after talkin’ to Daryl last night, it’s pretty clear that he likes your group and wants to stay here if you decide to stay. So I’ll have to negotiate that. But either way, I’m gonna keep my brothers with me. Both of them.” She looked nervously at Rick, trying to communicate that she was tired of discussing this.

“If we went, we wouldn’t go right now,” he said. “My wife is due to deliver in a couple of months, and I don’t want her and the baby to travel until they’re back in good health. But after that… well… it does sound like a better place to settle. Safer. More like normal.” 

Charlotte nodded, smiling at him.

“Look, let’s take the rest of today and tomorrow to think about it. We’ll take a vote at dinner tomorrow night.” Rick said, and the others mumbled their agreement and began to get up and go back inside. Charlotte was a little disappointed by this, as she’d wanted to know what the plan was and get working on it, but she understood that it was a lot to ask of them. 

As Carol and Daryl brushed past her, Charlotte walked over to the woman who’d asked about Merle. She smiled, extending a friendly hand. “I didn’t get a chance to meet you last night.”

“I’m Lori,” the woman said, shaking her hand.

“Is this your first child?”

“No, Carl’s our son, too.”

Charlotte vaguely remembered the boy running around the yard in a sheriff’s hat yesterday. “You have a beautiful family.”

“Thank you.” Lori looked embarrassed. “Look, I’m happy for you, it’s just… I mean, Daryl’s really grown on all of us, but Merle… I don’t have fond memories of him.”

“It’s all right. I don’t really, either. But he’s blood. I miss him.”

“Come on,” Rick said, approaching them. “Lori, we should get you back inside. You need to stay off your feet, and this bright sunlight probably ain’t good for you either.”

“You’d think I was about to fall over,” Lori said, rolling her eyes.

“How far along are you?” Charlotte said. “I mean… if it’s okay to ask.”

“Nearly thirty-one weeks,” Lori replied. “At least by Hershel’s count. Hopefully it’s not off more than a week or two.”

“Is he gonna help you with the delivery?”

“Yeah, I suppose. It’ll be tough, with his leg the way it is, but he’s been trying to prepare Maggie and Carol to step in and do the heavy lifting if necessary. He said he’s delivered for horses and stuff, so he’s the best we’ve got.” 

“He’s not a doctor?”

“No, he was a vet,” Rick added. “Why?” 

“I—well, I’m almost a doctor. Guess I’ll never be able to do that residency now, though.” 

“You’re a medical student?” Lori’s face brightened.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiled. “I’m a little rusty with childbirth… only did one OB-GYN rotation, ‘cause I was never meant for surgery, and I’ve mostly been patching scrapes on the road, but… I can help out, when the time comes. If you need me.”

“Yes,” Lori said enthusiastically. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

Rick nodded, and even his face looked a little brighter. The two of them headed back into the prison, arm in arm, and Charlotte was left standing alone in the yard.

\--

Andrea gently turned a carrot over under the cool stream of water, rubbing at the dirt with her thumb. _If that bastard Ed Peletier was still alive, he’d have a good laugh at me,_ she thought. _It’s the end of the damn world and here I am, doing woman’s work._ She loved Woodbury, loved having a roof over her head and a meal in front of her, but she sort of missed being out there in the wild with her gun, surviving, proving herself.

“What are we making today?” Ellie said, wandering into the kitchen and putting her thick, black hair up in a ponytail. She tucked her long bangs behind her ears and frowned, looking at the assortment of vegetables. “I’m guessing it’s not stir-fry.”

“It’s a roast,” Andrea replied, smiling at her.

“That’s so boring. I was hoping to show off a little.”

“I bet you can julienne the hell out of this carrot.” Andrea handed it to her. 

“The whole garden thing is kind of cool, I guess,” Ellie said. “The second night we were on the road, Charlotte and Krista and I holed up in one of the greenhouses on campus. We made a fire with a bunch of textbooks and cooked anything we could find on kabobs. Onions… carrots… squash… mushrooms… it was pretty good, actually.”

“How’d you guys meet up?” 

“The first night, they crashed in the Japanese restaurant I worked at.”

“Not a bad place to end up,” Andrea observed, picking up a leek and beginning to scrub it. “I was at the mall. They locked us down. By the time we got out in the morning, there were walkers all over the parking lot. Highways all backed up. I thought we were dead.”

“We?”

“My sister and me.”

“Where is she now?”

Andrea smiled sadly. “I lost her a while ago. But it’s all right. She was… she was such a wonderful person. I was sad then, but now I’m glad she doesn’t have to see all of this.”

Ellie nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not. Not anymore.” Andrea leaned on the counter. “I’m so happy for Charlotte, finding her brother like that. I hope she finds Daryl, too. I hope it works out for her.”

“Me too. She’s a good person. She’s gotten us across a lot of miles.”

“I would never have guessed… she seems so different from Daryl and Merle.”

“I don’t think they were very close before all this went down. I mean, family’s family, but the way she tells it, college was a good excuse for her to get away from home.” Ellie paused, looking embarrassed. “I shouldn’t be saying all of this without her here.”

“She’ll be back,” Andrea said. “Maybe she’ll bring the others, too.”

Ellie looked sideways at her. “Any cute single guys in your old group?”

“None you’d want to meet,” Andrea said, and they both laughed.

\--

Merle reclined on his bed, his prosthetic at his side, examining what remained of his arm. His immediate attempt to save himself had been ugly and painful, the scars and burns criss-crossing the hideous stump and the pungent odor of burning flesh still etched into his mind. It was worse than withdrawal had been, though just barely. He was thankful for the medical staff at Woodbury, who’d cleaned up his wound and stitched it cleanly closed in exchange for his willingness to help the Governor.

Now he had his sister back, and maybe his brother, too. Things were looking up.

He hadn’t seen his sister since she was eighteen, and even if he had a whole album full of family photos, she would still be practically a stranger to him. They were separated by more years than he and Daryl were, and Charlotte hadn’t exactly been welcome company when they went hunting or drinking. His father had never beaten her, as far as he knew, but she bore her own scars, even if she kept them buried deep inside.

He smiled, remembering how tough she looked out there, pointing her gun confidently at an innocent soup can and knocking it right off the wall. She’d gotten good in her few months of practice with the gun, but he could still see the subtle signs of someone still growing accustomed to this world, the way she had to stop and steady herself, breathe in and out, and double-check that her aim was correct before firing.

_If Momma hadn’t burned herself alive, she might’ve been proud of little Charlie.  
_

She hated the nickname, and it didn’t seem right now, didn’t go with the strong, confident woman she’d grown into. She was doubly smart, now uncovering the natural talents that ran in her blood to go with the schooling she’d accumulated over the years. _Can take a girl out of the sticks, but she’ll always be a Dixon, like it or not._ He thought she should embrace it, though he’d have to beat the men off of a prize pick like that.

He sighed, putting his prosthetic back on. It didn’t feel right, being warm and comfortable here while she was out there looking for Daryl. No matter what excuses she gave him, his brother was bound to be offended that Merle had sent a bunch of girls on the hunting party instead of doing it himself.

Merle stood up, going over to the window. The sun was setting, and pretty soon dinner would be ready. He looked down and saw some of the girls that had been following his sister down in the square, setting the tables for the meal and chatting happily amongst themselves. Merle almost laughed at the thought of it: a bunch of women surviving on their own out in the zombie apocalypse. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it. Then again, he supposed, stranger things had happened. An addict in withdrawal had cut his own hand off and ended up in charge of people’s safety.

Merle’s stomach growled, and he wondered if his sister and Daryl would eat tonight.


	7. Finding a Place to Land

“So, I gotta ask you a question.”

Charlotte and Lori slowly walked along the inner fence, talking and enjoying the mild weather. Hershel wasn’t very pleased to see Lori outside, preferring that she stay in bed, but Charlotte had encouraged her to get some light exercise, hoping it would make for an easier delivery. It wasn’t the first time the two had disagreed on medical advice, though Charlotte liked Hershel and knew he only wanted to be protective of Lori.

Lori looked at her, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes and smiling. “What?”

“I mean, I was out there on the road for six months. Tired, hungry, dirty… but definitely not horny.” Charlotte laughed, gesturing to Lori’s belly. “What’s your secret, hmm?”

Lori laughed, too. “I don’t know. I was bored,” she lied, but then she added, “Sex is the most intimate thing, you know? I was able to escape from all this. It was nice to do that.”

“I get it,” Charlotte replied. She looked out through the fences at the few shufflers— _walkers, that’s what they call them here_ —who roamed about in the outer yard. Just the other day, she’d been out there with them, and now she had her pick of two relatively safe places, both of which provided some semblance of comfort. It was crazy how quickly and easily matters could shift in the strange new world in which they lived.

“Did you have any children?” Lori asked gently.

“No. Always wanted one, though,” Charlotte admitted, smiling sadly. “But I was so busy with medical school, and… well, I didn’t really have a guy that I trusted with fatherhood.”

“Well, trust me, I will need lots of help with this little one. You’ll never want to see a baby again after the first few months.” Lori placed a protective hand on her stomach. At first, she hadn’t even been sure she wanted this baby, especially without knowing whether her husband or Shane had fathered it. She didn’t even know whether it was a boy or girl, much less have any names picked out, and yet she loved it more than anything. Her family was finally coming back together, just in time for it to expand a little bit.

“Enjoying your walk?” Hershel called as they came into earshot of the prison entrance.

“Yes,” Lori replied. “It’s a beautiful day. But my feet are starting to get a little tired.”

“Then let’s get you back inside,” Charlotte said. She took Lori’s arm and Hershel followed close behind, hobbling along on his crutches.

Carl was waiting inside, leafing through a battered copy of _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ that someone had retrieved for him from the prison library. He looked up as his mother got closer and smiled. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Not bad. Good to feel the sun on my face,” Lori said. “How are you?”

“Bored,” Carl said. He glanced at Charlotte. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” Charlotte said. “Carl, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“I’m tryin’ to learn everybody’s names. Never been much good with ‘em.”

“Maybe I can quiz you sometime,” Carl said, smiling.

Charlotte returned the smile. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.” She glanced at Lori, who was settling into her bunk. “You let me know if you start feeling any contractions, okay?”

The door to the cell block opened, and Charlotte looked up to see her brother and Rick walk in. It was kind of funny to see her brother following somebody besides Merle all over the place, as he’d lived in his brother’s shadow like a forlorn puppy for most of his life, or at least all the times she could remember seeing them together. He’d only been in this group for a few months, and already he had fallen in line behind Rick. Charlotte supposed it was just Daryl’s way to always be following somebody else around. And Rick, well—she could see why he’d emerged as the leader. He was tall, handsome, and the way he walked suggested that he always meant business. He seemed confident but not arrogant, which set him apart from most of the loud good ol’ boys she grew up with.

Daryl nodded at Charlotte as he approached and leaned against a wall. She returned it.

“Everybody gather ‘round,” Rick said. Those who were still in their bunks came out, and the others stopped their conversations and turned their attention toward him.

“We got some work to do this mornin’,” he continued. “There’s a group of walkers pushin’ on the fence between Tower 1 and Tower 2. Now, we don’t want to waste bullets, so Daryl and I dug up some tools from around the prison that can be used in close combat. I’ll lead a group out there and we’ll take out the threat.” He paused, glancing over at Daryl. “You wanna go check out those farms today?”

“Why not?” Daryl replied. “Make hay while the sun shines and all.” He added, shrugging.

“All right,” Rick said. “The other day when we were out on a run, we saw signs on the highway that there were farms near here. Daryl wants to take some people out to see about whether there are any livestock left, maybe some horses. Hershel said that the soil outside is in real good shape, so if you find any seeds to plant, that would be nice.”

“I’ll go with my brother,” Charlotte said.

“Me, too,” a voice said from above. The group looked up to see Michonne leaning over the railing, watching them and listening to Rick’s instructions. Charlotte still wasn’t quite sure what to think of this girl, who always seemed aloof and fickle, like a bird that couldn’t just fold up its wings and settle in one place. She seemed nice enough, though, and she had a way with that sword when it came to the dead. She was a good team member to have.

“Who else?” Rick asked.

“I’ll go,” Beth spoke up.

“Bethy, no,” Maggie said, looking over at her sister. “You’ve never been on a run before. It’s dangerous out there.”

“I gotta go on a run sometime,” Beth replied, stepping forward. “Besides, I used to work out in the garden with Momma at the farm. I know what type of seeds grow better in certain kinds of soil.”

“You gon’ saddle me with a bunch of girls?” Daryl said to Rick.

“I’ll come with you,” Glenn said. He glanced over at Beth. “But I could use your help when we get back. I don’t know anything about planting stuff.”

Beth didn’t answer. She glared at Glenn and her sister, then over at Daryl, before ducking back into the cell where she’d been sleeping.

“All right,” Rick said. “T, you wanna help with the fence?”

T-Dog nodded.

“We can help,” Krista said, gesturing to Raven and Logan, who nodded. Maggie also stepped forward. 

“Cool with me,” T-Dog said. “I got no problem working with a bunch of girls.” He grinned, causing a few members of the group to chuckle.

“Let’s move out. Make hay while the sun shines, like Daryl said.” Rick’s group followed him over to the stash of pointy makeshift weapons they’d brought up, and Charlotte, Glenn, and Michonne followed Daryl out into the prison yard.

Once outside, Glenn and Michonne got into a car, but Charlotte followed her brother over to his motorcycle. She remembered it well, despite not having seen it for several years. _Merle thought he was a real badass, ridin’ around town with all this Nazi shit on his bike._ The brother she’d reunited with back in Woodbury seemed to have mellowed out, which was an interesting but not altogether unexpected response to the end of the world. He seemed to fit in all right, despite working with all different kinds of people.

“You gonna give it back to him?” she asked, smirking at Daryl.

“Dunno. I kinda like it,” he replied, sitting down on the bike. “Go ahead, get on.” 

Awkwardly, she climbed onto the back of the bike and put her arms around him. She’d ridden with boys on motorcycles before, but it was weird being close to Daryl after they’d been separated for so long. It was like this was the kind of thing that people did all the time, except she’d been missing out. Last time she’d ridden on a bike with her brother, it had been Merle, and she had barely been a teenager. She lasted about two minutes before demanding that he stop and let her off, too scared to go very fast, and he’d spent twice that amount of time riding circles around her in the yard and laughing.

Though Daryl was clearly trying to play the part of Merle—riding his bike, wearing his clothes—being with him felt so different. Charlotte felt like she barely knew him, as closed off and withdrawn as they had both been back in the house of horrors.

They rode in silence along the empty highway, with Michonne and Glenn close on their tail, until the road sign that Rick had mentioned came into view. The exit took them further out into the country, and they passed several large white farmhouses before Daryl pulled into a driveway, speeding past walkers and coming to a stop in the center of a dirt turn-around space at the end. Charlotte hopped off the bike, turning around and putting a bullet in the forehead of an approaching walker. She glanced over at Daryl, who fired arrows into the rotting heads of two others, and couldn’t help but admire his skill with the crossbow. He had certainly learned quickly in the chaos of the apocalypse.

Daryl retrieved the arrows from the dead and glanced up as Michonne and Glenn pulled in behind the bike. Glenn closed the driver’s side door, pulling his handgun out of the holster just in case more walkers turned up. “We’ll go around back and check out the barn. There might be some animal pens back there. You wanna go look around inside the garage, see if you can find any seed packets?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, nodding. “Meet back here in half an hour.”

Charlotte followed her brother over to the garage, which had been sealed with a padlock. She shuddered to think what they might find inside if the owners had chosen the garage as their hiding place during the initial part of the crisis. Daryl seemed unconcerned as he pulled a pair of bolt cutters out of his bag and applied them to the lock. It snapped, and he reached for the door handle. Charlotte readied her weapon, just in case the noise drew any shufflers.

They were lucky; the most disgusting things in the garage were a couple bowls of cereal in putrid milk. Charlotte picked up the two bowls and tossed them out into the grass, hoping a breeze would come through and clear the stale air in the now-open space. She looked over at her brother, who was picking through the items on the wall shelves. 

“Seems like you really fit in with those people at the prison,” she remarked.

“Guess so,” he said, not looking at her.

“It’s kind of nice to see you with someone besides Merle.”

“I do my part. That’s all it is.”

“Really?” She didn’t look convinced.

“Yup.” Daryl opened a drawer. “Jackpot,” he murmured, spreading a bunch of seed packets between his fingers like a hand of cards and flashing them at her.

“Check ‘em. They’ll say what season they grow in.” Charlotte opened a cabinet, hoping to run across some canned goods, but she had no such luck. “What about that woman with the short hair? Is that just business?”

“Stop,” Daryl grumbled.

“It’s okay,” she said, abandoning her search and crossing the garage to him. “Look, all I’m saying is, it seems like you’ve done well for yourself. I’m proud of you.” She touched his arm tenderly, finding his skin to be tough and the muscle beneath it quite dense. 

“Don’t know who you are to judge. Haven’t seen you in years, even before all this shit.”

She frowned. “You know why I never came home. It wasn’t because of you.” 

“I get it. All I’m saying is, shouldn’t have had to take the end of the world—”

“I know,” Charlotte said, sighing. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.” She moved in to embrace him, and though he didn’t reciprocate, he didn’t resist as her arms closed around him. She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling, happy to have him back at last. All those years of separation had made her forget how much she loved her big brothers, but she did, and his acknowledgement of her staying away was like a knife in her heart. In a weird way, she was thankful for this chance to rebuild, especially without their father in the way. “I’m excited to get to know you again, as you are now. Merle, too.”

Suddenly, Daryl shoved her out of the way, stepping in front of her protectively and putting an arrow between the sunken eyes of a shuffler coming out of the door into the main house. They stood for a moment, tense and quiet, waiting for more to follow, but none came. Daryl looked back at her, lowering his bow. “Look for some fertilizer.” 

Charlotte rifled through some more cabinets, her eyes searching for the familiar green and yellow hues of a bag of Miracle Gro. “So, Carol… what’s her story?”

“Don’t know why you’re asking about her.”

“I’ve seen the way you and her look at each other.”

“Seen the way you look at Rick,” he murmured, smirking as he pocketed a trowel.

“What?” Charlotte said. “No way. I’m helping his wife deliver their baby, for Christ’s sake.” 

“I’m not sayin’ you’d go after a married man. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

“He seems like a good guy. You get along with him well enough.” She found half a bag of generic fertilizer and decided that it would have to do. “I would have thought all that time with Merle would have taught you not to trust cops.”

“He’s not really a cop anymore. None of us have to be what we were before.”

“That’s a good way to look at it.” She turned to him, showing him a handful of plastic baggies labeled with the names of flowers. “Should we bring these? Might be a nice surprise for the new baby.”

“Can’t spare the dirt,” he said, gesturing to her other claim.

Charlotte sighed. He was right. “Too bad. I was hoping to impress a guy.”

Daryl gave her a look, then he stuffed the seed packets in his hand into her bag. “Grab that watering can by the door and let’s go.” He picked up a shovel and headed outside.

When they made it back to the turn-around space, Glenn was busy loading a very pregnant pig into the back seat of the van. He struggled to tie the makeshift leash around the headrest on the passenger seat, causing Charlotte to chuckle. 

“Can you believe it?” Glenn said breathlessly. “Can’t believe she hasn’t been made into walker food yet! Found her rooting around in the barn, looking for scraps.”

“Tell Michonne to put the windows down, or she’ll be in for a smelly trip,” Charlotte said.

“Nah,” Michonne said, coming around the corner, leading a thin but clean-looking mare by the bridle and grinning triumphantly. “I’ve got my own ride.”

\-- 

Krista shoved the end of a broken pipe into a walker’s head, stepping back as it crumpled to the ground. She grimaced, still not totally used to the smell of decaying flesh. Normally, she’d wipe the remnants of the shuffler off her weapon, but there was no point now, as another groaning corpse had already taken its place. She sighed heavily, putting the brunt of her weight into the thrust of the pipe as she took it out.

“You ain’t gettin’ tired on me, girl, are you?” T-Dog said, coming over to her.

Krista smiled, chuckling. “This isn’t exactly the glamorous job I had envisioned.”

“Nah, that’s on the back of Daryl’s bike, riding off into the redneck sunset,” T-Dog quipped. “Personally, though, I’m glad you’re here. You guys are a big help.”

“Thanks,” Krista said. “We appreciate y’all takin’ us in.”

“Hey, there’s enough prison to go around.”

“So,” Logan said, stabbing another shuffler in the head with a kitchen knife. “You guys just kind of found each other when Atlanta was bombed?”

“Yeah,” T-Dog said, using the end of a shovel to push the walker’s body off the fence. “We went to the CDC, thinkin’ they might have some ideas about what to do, but that was a dead end. We crashed on Hershel’s farm for a while, but that got overrun, too. I just hope we can keep this place for a little longer. I hate having to keep starting over." 

Krista looked over at Maggie. “I’m sorry you lost your farm.”

“At least it was a safe place for a little while,” Maggie said, smiling faintly, before turning back to the task at hand. “Besides, I’m glad y’all turned up. Wouldn’t have met Glenn otherwise.”

“You don’t know him that well yet,” T-Dog said. “You may decide you wish he hadn’t showed up.” He cleared his throat, moving down to the other end of the fence.

“I know him,” Maggie said softly, smiling to herself and looking down.

T-Dog nodded, looking back up at the others. “What about the rest of you? You got boyfriends waitin’ in Woodbury, or you doin’ this whole end-of-the-world thing solo?”

Raven laughed. “First of all, way to assume everyone here is interested in guys.”

“Now I see why you didn’t object to being on the girls’ team,” Krista added.

T-Dog looked over at her, smirking. “I’m just sayin’. I’m single and ready to mingle.”

They all looked up as the sound of a motorcycle drew nearer. Maggie put down the fire poker she’d been using and rushed over to the gate, clearly happy to see Glenn return. She pulled the gate back, letting Daryl and Charlotte in, with Glenn behind them. The team on the fence chuckled as they watched Michonne saunter through on horseback.

“I never thought I’d see a horse alive again,” Raven marveled, approaching it and allowing it to sniff her before she lightly petted its flank. “You named her yet?”

“Nah,” Michonne said. “I figure I’ll just take one from the list of names Lori doesn’t want for the baby, if it’s even a girl.”

Maggie smiled. “You know you’re gonna have to let us take turns going for a ride.”

“Kinda makes me wish money still meant something. I could make a killing.” 

“And what’s this?” T-Dog said, laughing as he watched Glenn wrestle the pig out of the van. “You brought me some bacon? How thoughtful.”

“She’s pregnant,” Glenn said. “Give the little guys a chance before we fry them up.”

“Take her in to see my dad,” Maggie suggested. “We can let her stay in a spare cell until he can get some people to help him build a pen.”

“Give him these, too,” Charlotte said, handing the bag of garden supplies to Glenn. She glanced over at Maggie. “Everything okay here?”

“Yeah, but Rick’ll be wanting to make a decision about that town you were talkin’ about,” Maggie replied. “Can you help me work on dinner?”

“Sure,” Charlotte said. She knew there were better cooks in the group than she, but there was no harm in getting some practice. Besides, she liked these people, and being willing to help out might help them warm up to her. It had certainly worked for Daryl.

\-- 

“So, what do we have to work with?” Charlotte asked, following Maggie into the kitchen.

“Pretty much a lifetime supply of beans,” Maggie said, smirking. “But we make runs every couple of days, and with those seeds you brought back, we could have a real feast before too long.” She began rifling through cabinets for a large pot.

“How are we going to cook?”

“Same way you do out in the wild. We set a fire.” Maggie gestured to a pile of flammable materials that they had begun to accumulate over in one corner. “See if you can find anything besides newspaper. I think the ink makes the food taste funny.”

“You might be onto somethin’ there.” Charlotte picked through the pile, finding some broken pieces of wood and long grass plucked from the yard outside in a box. She brought the whole thing over to a clean space in the center of the room and sat cross-legged in front of it. She bit her lip, digging in her pocket and retrieving a lighter with a Confederate flag on it. She found herself briefly wanting a cigarette but chased the thought away. 

“So, you were in med school when all this happened?”

“Yeah. Almost finished.”

“What was it like?” Maggie leaned on the counter, looking at her.

“I loved it,” Charlotte said softly. “It was so wonderful to get away from home when I went to college, and I figured I might as well go to the next level. I loved learning new things, and I liked the idea of being able to help people. I think I would have been good.”

“We’re real lucky to have you,” Maggie said. “You and your brother, I guess.”

“Were you in college?”

“Yeah. Thankfully, I was already home to visit when everything went bad.” Maggie began opening cans of pinto beans and dumping them in the pot. “I hadn’t really decided what I wanted to do yet, you know? There were just so many options.”

“Bring the pot over here,” Charlotte said, gesturing to a little platform she’d set up with the wood. As Maggie set it down, Charlotte bent down, using the lighter to ignite the grass in the center of the pile and gently blowing on the flame, coaxing it into life.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Maggie said, chuckling, as Charlotte stood back up.

“My brother taught me a lot of this stuff. Not Daryl, Merle. I think he kinda knew things were gonna get worse at home, and he thought I should know how to take care of myself if I ever had to make a run for it. Or maybe this was all he could think of to explain why he kept taking me into the woods whenever Daddy got drunk.” She shrugged. “He’s an asshole, believe me, but he’s a good guy, too. Somehow.”

“I think it’s nice that y’all found each other. You can be a family again.” Maggie knelt down and began gently stirring the beans. “I don’t know what I’d do without my daddy and my sister. Losing my momma was hard enough. It was hard on all of us.”

“I think you should do whatever you can to make sure your family stays together,” Charlotte said softly. “I’m so lucky, getting to be here now, with my brothers close by.” She stared thoughtfully into the flames. “I’m just kind of happy to be alive. Surprised, but happy.”

She looked down, startled, as Maggie gently squeezed her hand. “For I go to prepare a place for you,” she said quietly. “That where I am, there you may be also.”

Charlotte vaguely recognized it as a Bible verse. She looked at Maggie questioningly.

“Rick has done a good job preparing this place for us. I think we’ll have a safe place to stay, no matter whether it’s here or in that town. Whichever we choose, eventually we’ll get used to it, and then we’ll have time for things like that, getting to just be together. I believe we will make it somehow. We’ve come this far.”

Charlotte nodded, gently squeezing Maggie’s hand back. “Come on. If we let ‘em burn, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

\-- 

When the beans had been dished out and consumed with few complaints, Rick moved to the center of the group and cleared his throat. “All right, it’s time for us to decide what to do about this new place, Woodbury. I think we should stay together, so whichever the majority wants, that’s where we’ll go. If anybody feels strongly about it, though, we can talk it out, and if we can’t come to an agreement, we’ll separate out some supplies and do what we can to help.” He glanced over at Charlotte. “I know I’m the one callin’ a vote, but this isn’t my decision. We started out as a group and it’s our choice what we do next. Anybody have anything they want to say before we vote? Any questions?”

The room was silent. Charlotte shifted uncomfortably, feeling eyes on her. She wasn’t really sure anymore how she wanted the vote to turn out. Either way, she’d get both of her brothers, even if it was a little tougher one way than the other. Woodbury had been a paradise compared to the road, but Maggie was right—Rick and the others had done a lot to make the prison hospitable. Plus, Woodbury had the Governor, and Rick was a sight better than him, at least as far as she had observed.

“All right. Close your eyes; we’ll make it a secret ballot.” The vote itself was quick; Rick gave out both options, forcing a choice between the two, and then instructed everyone to open their eyes again.

“We’re all agreed, then. We’ll move to Woodbury.” He nodded. “But like I said yesterday, I want to wait until Lori has the baby before I take my family anywhere. She’s in no condition to be traveling. Just give her a month after she delivers to heal.”

Across the room, Lori smiled at him gratefully.

“But I understand if others don’t want to wait.” Rick looked at Daryl and Charlotte.

“Nah,” Daryl spoke up. “We’ll all go together. It’s safer that way.”

Charlotte nodded. The Governor seemed like he could have a bit of a temper; what if he decided that he only wanted to accept part of the group and wouldn’t let others in later? She couldn’t risk that; everybody would hate her for asking them to pick up and move. Merle could hold on a couple months. Besides, this might be her only chance to spend any time with Daryl out from under Merle’s shadow. It was precious time.

As the meeting adjourned and Carol and Beth took the pot and silverware out back to wash them, Charlotte approached Rick. Her brother hung back, giving her some space.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said to him, nodding at Lori. “You’re gonna love it.”

“I’m glad you showed up and told us about it,” Rick replied. “Even if Merle lives there.”

Lori and Charlotte both chuckled. “I appreciate you takin’ me in, knowing him and all,” Charlotte added.

Rick smiled. “Well, I know Daryl, too, and he doesn’t have too much in common with Merle anyway. I don’t know you that well yet, but… I think you’re different from both of them. You’re your own flavor. I think you’ve got a lot to contribute here, Charlotte.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m real glad to have you,” Lori said softly, patting Charlotte’s arm. “Welcome home.”

As Rick helped his wife to bed, Charlotte stood in the center of the space, staring all around her at the prison. She knew Daryl was waiting on her to get settled before he took watch, but she just wanted an extra moment. She wanted to feel this, to let Lori’s words sink in and will herself to believe them. _You’re home, Charlotte. You’re home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> Sorry this update has taken ages! I did write a longer chapter to try to make up for it. Work has been driving me crazy and I've been fighting with time and my muse to get some writing done--but here it is, at last! Really hope you enjoy this chapter, and I so appreciate all of your wonderful feedback and kudos so far. Definitely take a moment and let me know what you think of the story and what you'd like to see in future chapters. We have a ways to go!


	8. The Cold Light of Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I just want to apologize for how long it has taken me to get a new chapter up. The last couple of months at work have been extremely stressful for me and I've been dealing with renewed anxiety and depression for the first time in a few years. When I get like that, unfortunately, it kind of kills my muse. However, I'm starting to come through on the other side, and I wanted to celebrate that by finishing the next chapter and getting it posted. 
> 
> I have been taking note of all the lovely comments and kudos you all have been leaving for me, and each and every one has meant so much. I hope you come back and continue the story despite my little unplanned hiatus.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and thanks again! :)

_They’d been walking away from Atlanta for three days. They’d come this way in search of weapons, first at Charlotte’s dad’s house and then at Duke’s apartment, but they’d come up with less than expected. Charlotte had the twenty-gauge, which she’d been using to teach Krista to shoot whenever they stopped for a rest, and Ellie had a couple of large kitchen knives tucked into her belt. They were out of canned food and the bullets were beginning to run low, much like the charge on Krista’s iPod. She and Ellie had resorted to playing a game in which they tried to come up with the best occupations for recovering shufflers when this whole mess was resolved.  
_

_“Self-checkout supervisors at the Piggly Wiggly,” Krista offered._

_Ellie snorted. “Jewelry models on late-night QVC,” she traded back._

_As she walked along the lonely highway, Charlotte thought about the cute veterinary student she’d met at the medical professionals mixer the other night._ Two weeks ago _, she mused,_ but it feels like a different lifetime _. He’d brought her a wine spritzer on assumption and looked pleasantly surprised when she asked him to exchange it for a Bud Light with a twist of lime. Then, he’d told her every bad knock-knock joke he’d ever heard, which became funnier as the night wore on. His phone buzzed, requesting his permission to update the Mapquest app. She discovered that he lived only a couple towns away from her. I had to sell my car to pay for vet school, he said, but look at this – I could walk to you instead. It’s only eighty minutes on foot.  
_

_Charlotte smiled, but it didn’t last. The clock struck midnight in her memory, and just like Cinderella, she had to get away. Sure, it might take this guy only eighty minutes to walk to her house, but it would only take Duke and his friends a couple hours to drive here and kill him. The thought of that was enough to motivate her to politely refuse the next refill and make an excuse. By the time she got home and tucked herself in, the regret had already settled in her stomach._

_She wondered where he was now, if he was still alive. She couldn’t even recall his name._

_“Hey, look!” Ellie said, causing Charlotte to look back at her. But Ellie was pointing ahead at something past Charlotte. She turned back around, spotting a Volvo crashed into a tree._

_“Looks like somebody decided to ignore the highway safety corridor signs,” Krista observed. She moved around to the passenger side of the car and made a face. Charlotte looked and saw a corpse with a stab wound in its head hanging out of the open door. Blood and pus from a bite wound was visible through the white t-shirt, which was emblazoned with a canoe and the words CAMP WINAHOCHEE, SPRING 2010, MACON, GA. An identical t-shirt laid in the driver’s seat, soaked in bodily fluids, like it had been used as a compress. The other door was also open, suggesting that the driver had dispatched of his or her undead friend and made a break for it._

_“Krista, I might have found a weapon for you,” Ellie said. She leaned the driver’s seat forward and pulled a crude-looking bow out of the back seat. “There are some arrows back here, too.”_

_“Cool,” Krista said, popping the hood. “It doesn’t look too badly damaged, actually. These Volvo bumpers are sturdier than you might expect. Probably won’t pass inspection next year, but it’ll drive, I think. Let me poke around for a minute, just to be sure. You two look out for shufflers.”_

_“I thought your degree was in nursing, not auto maintenance,” Charlotte quipped._

_“A girl can’t have a hobby?” Krista smirked. “My dad’s a mechanic. If I wanted to spend any time with him when he wasn’t at work, that meant crawling under cars in the garage right next to him. He took the opportunity to teach me a thing or two.” She patted the twisted bumper of the car. “He bought my sister one of these when she went to college. If anything could withstand the zombie apocalypse, it would be a Volvo. They’re the cockroaches of the automobile world.”  
_

_“What do you think? Will it explode if we try to start it?” Ellie asked._

_“Worse ways to go nowadays, right?” Krista closed the hood as quietly as possible. “Let’s go.”_

_The girls disposed of the corpse and climbed into the car, rolling the windows down to disperse the scent of the dead, as well as the old marijuana smoke baked into the car’s interior. To their relief, the car started, and before long they were trundling down the road at a slightly faster pace. Charlotte was behind the wheel, and the others had resumed their morbid little game._

_She tried to settle back against the seat, but her hands still gripped the wheel tightly. She was anticipating something, but she wasn’t sure what it was. That had become the new normal. She cruised along the road at moderate speed, slowing every now and then to go around bodies in the road or other cars that had run out of gas or been overtaken by shufflers. She smiled at the sound of Ellie and Krista chuckling in the back seat over the prospect of undead Wal-Mart greeters. If it weren’t for the smell of the dead outside, she could have rolled down the window and pretend she was enjoying a lazy Sunday drive. It was nice to forget, for a little while._

_She moved her neck back and forth gently to crack it, and then her ears were filled with a roar. A few yards ahead of her, a tangled mass of shufflers fell out of the trees, spilling across the road. Charlotte slammed on the brakes, unable to go around. Her heart pounded. She should get out, make a run for it, but she couldn’t move. All she could see was his face, the look of terror and betrayal as he fell over the railing of the stairs, their filthy hands clutching greedily at him and pulling him into their pit. He was screaming at her, saying her name over and over, until he fell quiet and she couldn’t hear anything but the sound of them tearing into his flesh…_

_Someone else was calling her name now. Charlotte blinked, looking ahead. The road was clear._

_“Charlotte, you okay?” Krista said, more softly this time._

_Ellie leaned forward. “We’ve got to get going. The fuel’s pretty low. Not sure how far it’ll get us.”_

_“I guess we’ll go as far as we can,” Krista added. She looked at her friend with concern._

_Charlotte blinked again, nodding. She inhaled, forcing herself to clear her head, to erase the image of Duke’s face. She knew it would come back to haunt her again. That’s how the world was now, just one painful reminder after another. There was nothing to do but push forward._

_She put her foot on the gas and eased the car back into the right lane, and they went on._

She was in the prison again when she opened her eyes. Charlotte sat up slowly, pulling on the sweater she’d borrowed from Andrea before leaving Woodbury. It was beginning to get chilly out, especially in the mornings. As she emerged from her cell, she thought of her grandmother, whom she’d only seen a handful of times before her death. Her mother had always been the one to encourage staying in touch with the rest of the family, and with her died their motivation to keep it up. But she remembered that her grandmother loved to knit. It might have been nice to learn that, to have something to do to pass the time here, to contribute to the community.

She passed Carol, who was helping Lori walk off some premature contractions. Those women looked like homebodies. Maybe they could teach her how to knit. She could practice by making some booties for the new baby, with a hat to match. The thought made her feel warm inside. 

Charlotte stepped out into the yard, coveting the weak sunshine that draped the shoulders of Glenn and Maggie as they stood by one of the vehicles. The two of them were clearing boxes and weapons out of the trunk, presumably to make room for whatever they were going to get.

“Morning,” Charlotte called, offering them a smile.

Maggie turned and beamed at her. “Hey.”

“What are you two up to this early in the morning? Romantic weekend getaway?”

Maggie sighed. “The closest I’m ever going to get to one. We’re going out to try to find some last-minute stuff for the baby. Lori’s still missing a couple things.”

“That’s nice of you,” Charlotte replied. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get some ideas about what to get when it’s time for you and Glenn to become parents. Color schemes and whatnot.” 

“Slow down, girl, I’m not even married yet,” Maggie said, but the mirth in her tone didn’t reach her eyes. She had kind of a faraway look, like she didn’t think either of them would make it that far. Charlotte pitied her; it must be terrible to be so close to joy and be unable to truly grasp it.

“We should get going,” Glenn said, opening the driver’s side door. “Want to beat the lines.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “You want to come?”

“Nah, I don’t want to crash your party. See you later.”

As Charlotte turned to head back into the prison, she saw her brother approaching her, crossbow still slung across his back from his overnight watch. He nodded at her, gesturing toward the outer yard and handing her a garden spade. “Let’s do some damage control.”

They walked toward the fence, stopping to take out shufflers as they reached particularly weak spots in the perimeter. “You settlin’ in okay?” Daryl murmured, glancing over at her. 

“Yeah,” Charlotte replied. “I’ll feel better once we’re all together again, but there’s a nice setup here. Pretty comfortable. Everybody’s got jobs. It’s not so bad, even if it is a prison.”

“Yeah, it’s all right,” Daryl remarked. He paused, shooting a shuffler at close range and retrieving his arrow quickly.

“How do you think Merle will cope with living under a cop’s rules?”

“It’s not like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Rick’s in charge, I guess, but he doesn’t walk all over everybody.” He sighed, cleaning the brain matter off the arrow. “I’m kinda glad we got some time before he comes here, though. I don’t know how he’s gonna take it. I don’t know how he’s gonna feel about me.”

Charlotte frowned, stabbing a shuffler that was making a particularly annoying noise close to her ear. “We’ve all changed, haven’t we? We have to. He’s not quite how I remember him being, either. It would be weird if you hadn’t changed.”

“Rick and me… I mean, he gave me somethin’ to do. He and Merle, they wouldn’t get along. Merle’s gonna think it’s kinda weird if I agree with Rick about things, especially if he doesn’t.” He looked over at her. “Maybe he won’t think of me as his brother anymore. I don’t know.”

“Of course he will. You’ll always be brothers, and I’ll always be your sister. We’re family.” Charlotte put a reassuring hand on his arm. “Maybe all this means is that now we’re part of a bigger family, a family of survivors. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a good thing.” She smiled softly. “I kinda feel like I’m startin’ to fit in here, too. I’m grateful for that. I want to fit in.”

“Yeah, you do,” Daryl replied. “It’s Merle I’m worried about." 

“It’ll be okay,” Charlotte said. “We’ll make it work. We always do.”

Daryl didn’t say anything, turning his attention back to the fence. He didn’t have to say anything; he knew she was right. Even if they’d been separated for a while, the same blood ran through their veins. They were backwoods people, accustomed to getting things by the skin of their teeth, to barely getting by and making the best out of what they had. They were built for this world. And that, Charlotte thought—all things considered—was worth celebrating, just a little.

\--

By midday, the afternoon sun was beating down on Charlotte, who was busy moving back and forth from tower to tower and restocking bullets for the guns that were kept up there in case of an emergency. She came down out of Tower 3, carrying an empty box, and paused near the fence. After setting the box down on the crude wooden bleachers, she swept her hair back into a loose ponytail, feeling grateful that Michonne had let her have one of the fabric elastic bands she’d swiped from a CVS months ago. Then, she stripped her sweater off, exposing the tank top underneath. Even with the palpable absence of a breeze, she already felt significantly cooler. 

“Hey, Charlotte?” Rick called from behind her. 

She spun around, marveling at his ability to sneak up on her. He must have picked up a few tricks from Daryl. “Sorry, I’m almost done. Only one more tower to check.”

“That’s all right. No rush.” Rick came closer to her, and she suddenly felt very exposed. He glanced around, looking concerned. “Glenn and Maggie aren’t back yet.”

Charlotte frowned. She’d forgotten about that. They’d been gone for half the day already, much longer than it should have taken to stop in the next town over and pick up some baby supplies.

“I think I might take the truck and go looking for them, just to make sure they didn’t get lost,” Rick said. “Would you be interested in coming with me?”

“You want me to come?”

“Well, I figured you’d want to try to get some stuff for—” He swallowed. “You know, for the birth. Medical supplies. You’re probably the only person who would really know what to look for.”

“All right,” Charlotte replied, squinting at him a little in the bright sunshine.

“You still got bullets for that shotgun?”

“Yeah, but it’s cumbersome. I’d rather borrow a couple of smaller pistols, just to make sure we pack enough ammo.” 

“Hershel and Carl have been working on weapons for a couple hours. You could talk to them.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte agreed. “And I’ll find Krista, ask her to keep an eye on Lori while we’re gone. She’s a nurse. She’s got good bedside manner. I’m sure Lori would be comforted if she had someone there to get her through those Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been havin’.”

Rick nodded, smiling slightly, but it faded as he glanced toward the gate. No sign of the others. 

They piled in the truck, cruising carefully along the forest-framed road and trying to avoid driving over too many shufflers in an effort to preserve the tires. Charlotte was staring out the window and wondering why it felt so uncomfortable to be here with him. They weren’t really strangers anymore, but she didn’t feel like she belonged here, not without having Daryl to cover for her.

Finally, he broke the silence. “I really appreciate everything you’ve been doing for my wife.”

Charlotte nodded. “Of course. I’m happy to help.”

He chuckled. “I think back to how your brothers were when I first met them… I don’t know exactly what I would have predicted, but clean-cut med student definitely doesn’t fit the bill.”

“Well, you know what they say—sometimes parents have a couple of screw-ups on the way to making the perfect child,” she quipped, smirking at him. She wasn’t as clean-cut as he thought, though. If they spent any time together, he’d soon figure that out.

“So you’re the baby, huh?” 

“Yeah. Wasn’t exactly the ideal situation. Had some real trouble landing a boyfriend.” It was the classic joke, playing up her big brothers as protectors, but she didn’t know if they would really have cared. There was too much else going on for them to worry over her precious virginity. _Even if they had, it wouldn’t have changed anything about how Duke treated me._

“I’d imagine so,” Rick replied, nudging the wheel to the left to avoid a small pile of corpses.

“What about you?” Charlotte asked, looking over at him. “What’s your story, fearless leader?”

“Small town cop. No one special,” he replied, looking thoughtful as he stared at the road ahead. “I had gotten shot on the job just before all this happened. I woke up in the hospital and somehow made it back home. Through the kindness of strangers, I made it back to my family. Now, those strangers have become part of my family, your brother included.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. My girls and I—we all came together by accident, really. But I think we’ve kept each other alive. They helped me get back to my brothers, so I’ll always be grateful for that. I guess we did become our own little family out there on the road.”

“Well, I look forward to meeting the rest of them.”

“I imagine you can’t say the same about running into Merle again.”

Both of them chuckled.

“But since you mentioned it… I appreciate you taking care of Daryl,” Charlotte said softly, looking down. “He’d be mortified if he knew I was tellin’ you this, but I always worried about him a little, taking after Merle and all. But the person I’ve seen here at the prison, the person he’s become with you there instead of Merle… it’s a good change. I’m thankful for that.”

Rick nodded. “I mean, who knows… maybe Merle will fall in line, too.”

“I doubt that. But maybe Daryl and I can manage him until he adjusts.”

“I think we’d all appreciate that,” Rick said, smiling at her.

Charlotte glanced over, meeting his gaze, and immediately had to look down. Up close, she found it extremely difficult to ignore how handsome he was, with his five-o-clock shadow and kind eyes. He was ten years older than her, at least, and _married_ , for God’s sake, about to become a father for the second time. But it was easy to see how Daryl had come to trust him.

“Hey, isn’t that them?” Rick said, pressing on the brake. Through the windshield, Charlotte could see the van Glenn and Maggie had taken that morning parked in the middle of the road. The sliding side door of the van was open, and it didn’t look like there was anyone inside.

“Let’s go take a look,” Rick said, slowly opening the door. “Keep your weapon close.”

Charlotte eased out of the car, closing the door quietly behind her and pulling one of the handguns out of the holster at her belt. She kept it carefully poised in front of her as they approached the van. 

Rick looked through the windows, checking for walkers, and then opened the other doors and poked around in the backseat. “No weapons,” he observed. “Maybe they ran out of gas.”

“The keys are still in the ignition,” Charlotte said. “I don’t think they’d leave them behind, even if they went looking for some gas to siphon.” She glanced down, spotting a piece of paper in the floorboard on the passenger’s side. She picked it up, realizing that it was a list, the words written in a woman’s neat script: _bottles, formula, pacifiers, cloth diapers, seat with handle for carrying._

“Rick,” she said softly, showing it to him. “I think Maggie must have dropped this.” Now she noticed Glenn’s windbreaker in the driver’s seat, spread against the back of the seat like he had tried to take it off while driving. “Wherever they went, they had to go quickly.”

“Maybe they were ambushed by walkers,” Rick said.

Charlotte shook her head. “There would be bodies here, from the ones they had to kill to get away.” She noticed a bottle by her feet. She picked it up, recognizing the label – she had seen people drinking beer like this at Woodbury, in the evening after dinner when she took a walk. Her stomach flip-flopped uncomfortably. Could Maggie and Glenn have been forced away?

“It’s gonna get dark soon,” Rick observed. “We should get back, find some flashlights and come back out. Maybe we can get some of the others to come with us. More pairs of eyes.”

Charlotte nodded, following him back to the truck. As she sat down and buckled her seatbelt, her eyes fell on the bottle again, its bright yellow and blue label sticking out amongst the foliage. Perhaps the two worlds she was trying to balance would collide sooner than she’d planned.

\--

“Why would they have been taken to Woodbury?” Rick asked, steeling his gaze toward the road as he drove back to the prison. His tone was notably more serious than it had been on the drive there.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte said, looking out the window. What she meant was that nothing she could possibly think of had a benign ending. “Whatever it is, they shouldn’t be gone long. The guy who runs this place likes to throw his weight around, but I don’t think he’d hurt anyone.”

“We need them back here. They’re part of our family.”

“I know. Look, if my brother gets wind of this, he’ll probably escort them back here himself. He’s dying to get back to Daryl and me. I don’t think he really cares where that happens, in the end.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rick said, glancing over at her. His voice was a little softer now, indicating that he was calming down, at least for the moment. “Once Lori has the baby, we’ll send a team out to go look for them. Maybe we can get a better idea of whether we’d fit in at Woodbury, see what kind of people we’re dealin’ with. We’ll figure out what happened and how to fix it.”

Charlotte glanced down. She knew Rick believed in people, but something like this would be enough to shake anyone’s faith. Maybe he didn’t want to give up on Woodbury. She wondered if part of that was because of Daryl, maybe even because of her—because of the family. Maybe it was just him trying to find the best possible solution for his real family, his wife, his new baby. Whatever the underlying reason, she was grateful. Her fantasy of a happy reunion still lived.

She looked through the windshield as they approached the prison. Someone should be on watch in the tower, and another by the gate, to let them back in. Usually people were out in the yard, doing chores and getting some fresh air. This was about the time of day when Lori liked to come out and take a little walk to try to encourage her labor. But the prison yard was deserted.

She and Rick exchanged glances. He stopped the car just outside the gates. “We tied up a hole in the fence just over there,” he said, pointing. “Stay in the car. Cover me from walkers.”

Charlotte nodded, sliding over to the driver’s seat and pulling her guns out. As Rick worked on undoing the ties, she took out any of the undead that came close to him, or close to the car. Once he was inside and the hole had been closed again, he opened the gate for her to drive the car in. They parked it in front of the inner gate and climbed onto the hood. He boosted her over the fence, being careful to avoid the nearby barbed wire, and she opened the gate for him to drive through. Once safely inside, they abandoned the car and raced inside the prison. 

“What’s going on?” Rick called as he entered the prison. No one answered, though his voice echoed angrily off the walls for several seconds. They pushed forward, toward where the group had set up camp. As they drew closer, Charlotte heard the sound of crying between footsteps. She turned the corner, finding the entrance to the cell block, and her heart fell into her stomach.

Lori was laying on the floor on her back. Her midsection was ripped open, and a pool of blood was soaking into her clothes and spreading out across the concrete floor. Someone had shot her in the head, causing more blood and brain matter to seep out, matting her long brown hair. Krista was sitting on the floor nearby, cradling a crying baby in her arms, tears streaking down her face. Carl stood a few feet away, pale as a ghost, a pistol cradled in his shaking hand.

Charlotte stepped forward slowly, taking it all in. Daryl stepped out of the shadows, and as she looked at him, she realized that even he looked rattled. She hadn’t seen him look that way since they were kids, the last time she remembered their father giving their mother a good beating. Behind her, she heard the sound of a body hitting the floor, accompanied by Rick’s agonizing sobs. Carl began to cry, dropping his gun in the process. The others remained silent, though a quick scan of the room revealed that they were all either in shock or crying quietly as well.

She moved over to Krista, and in her friend’s eyes she could see how much she’d failed. _I swore they were false contractions,_ she thought painfully. _I didn’t even know she’d had Carl by C-section. Why didn’t she tell me that? Why wasn’t I here, for the one moment she needed me?_ Krista’s nursing training had prepared her to hold expectant mothers’ hands, to whisper soft, encouraging words, to take blood pressure and temperature and clean a squalling newborn. But she had certainly never learned how to deliver a baby on her own. She must have been terrified.

Charlotte sniffled, gently taking the baby from Krista and sinking onto the floor. She tried very hard to look away from Lori’s bloody corpse, instead staring into the eyes of the infant in her arms. It looked like a girl, but now seemed like a bad time to ask. She wondered if Lori had been able to come up with a name, and if she had told anyone before… _Don’t think about that, either._

The baby was still whimpering, but it had calmed down a bit. Charlotte stared down at it, trying to stifle the panic rising up in her chest. Everyone else was distraught, but she couldn’t be. She had a responsibility to this little one. She was going to protect this baby, no matter what it took.

_I’m so sorry, Lori,_ she thought to herself. _But I’ll make it up to you. I promise._


End file.
